“Without the Prism”
The narrow definition of money
The drone of meaningless discourse
In the event that I have some courage
I know where to turn
With the space and the lack of what to say
The bad dirty fun that energized the soul
Drained the body
But intensified the ubiquitous force of the heart
Has now thwarted my once peaceful
State of existence
Into a kind of euphoric condition
That only lulled me into a sleep
It’s only been a day but
I wait for your coming home
I cannot help but feel
That you are somehow here
in a broken sense
Of reality’s prism
Often looked upon as cofusion
Yet if it were not here
Would I be able to see the abstractness of a smile?
Or the glory of a kiss
Would I know what it’s like to feel?
Would I know you like this?