Sitting

it seems strange
to look forward
only to see what’s passed.
encased by fallen nights
to which days not faced
extrapolate possibility.
imagine,
what you cannot.

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Compromising slants

i see what’s in front of me
what, you mean it’s beside me?
well where is it that you stand?
position directs a view
in need of compromise.
our slant is reinforced
by similar angles.
so who can be wrong
when an object is viewed
by all perspectives?

Busting at the seam with inexperience

one droplet,
another, another,
and many more.
they’ve taken refuge amongst a fault.
living tide upon verge,
limits once contained
faults pronounced under stress.
stress exacerbates faults.
the upholding damn,
buckles into hell.
order restored through loss,
doubt is new order.
former foundations crumble
to new wear.
inexperience rests no easy feet,
building takes time business cannot waste.