Monachopsis

somehow i slipped in
and languished. i evolved in the cracks of the moon -
and killed a sparrow of moments
in the dense room of Being There.
if i trouble the waters, it's news to God.
as vipers in the sun
spit Mondays
like a bullet from
a gun.
i'm beside you
but my shadow cast -
has merged with yours
or it's high noon.
i'm like a breeze
in a hurricane.
a trumpet made
of bricks
and wishes,
i'm there.
but the stars are not my stars.
and my heart is not
the center of
the world.

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Comments
nice write! I think we're all out of place in this world, because I believe we are spirit children having a mortal experience.all the best......................Jim
we are little gods with amnesia. stubbing our toes.