perfectly whole yet not quite together…
a thousand interlocking pieces yet none hold the smooth to slip me in. a shape with projection i seem to push the mass away. even if we lock would i ever want to conform to your spatial monotony? i hear what you’re saying but it’s falling on deaf ears. you want me here but a path leads from the sash i’ve left open. inch turned to gap. the draft never turned your head to notice so neither will the guilt when i move on. it’s a pretty picture when all comes together. there’s a hole in the middle rendering it obsolete.
listen to this poem
© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.
‘From My Front Steps,’ ‘Scotch and Scars’ and ‘A Distilled Spirit’ in paperback and Kindle ebook at Amazon.