Distraction of Sparks


the phantom

in it’s grotto

grins upon a hexed cushion

that stinks and smothers.

Excessive rhythmic noise

pounds gracelessly

on my vestibule doors

leaving fingerprints

green with envy and moss.

Reality flares,

distress signals,

sparking a heated tumbling

and there is one choice

………..to embrace transparency

…..or ……..shut ………my ………………eyes





15 thoughts on “Distraction of Sparks”

    1. I always open my eyes in the end! I can’t stand the thought denial keeps me stagnant….
      Did your pictures turn up? Have I already asked ? I am a bit mad at the moment so many things happening its like a really fast poem


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