Posed in ice

October’s diligent renewal of decay; barren oak and maple trees, chilled water bodies naturally hardened like cold-heart’s, and our favorite massive white teddy bears curfews reinstated.

 Chloe mumbled an unintelligible invocation “…….carve………forsaken………astray”. With only the passing wistful wind, and nature (including the gnomes, superstitious as she was), a comatose urge to relish in her seclusion gripped her tight.

Meaningless mindfulness

Something always masquerades

The view

It can’t be helped or run

Thought thoughts over you

Guilty pleasures sewn undone

Like a backhanded tailor 

Minus the luck or fun

A state of mimicry; interludes

Who am I to question this?

Euphoria spills splatters

Red, black, and blue

Senseless of perpetuity

On our morals we piss

We calibrate others; quite pedestrian

And somehow bemuse the ruse within

An anectode of fearless judgement begins

“Let him take the fall”, Karma’s ambience 

Its an angel out of hell, they said

What’s an oxymoron to depth, reject?

Rectify

​Time stands still, irrevocably

This time; between seconds

Rectify our loss, redeem it
In some third person dialect
Chance catapults chances
Like birds leap trees 

I believe
A thought unwoven berates

As thoughtfully as dust

Just because…