Poem -

there’s an acorn made of sensible things

there’s an acorn made of sensible things

there’s an acorn made of sensible things
never in your tree. your branches sprawl
unencumbered by the width of a paradox
dangling from an infinite Other.
you extend your extremes
by simply living through an eon
of overexposure.
you wane like a champion of Nightfall
but your Love is another damned
thing.