Intrusions

I'd tell you I've seen the incomplete flashes

Caverns of white obliterate continuity

Rubber snaps resonance back into the soul, eager to convince unconsciousness

Where do these steps lead,

indignant or full of belief?

Hands wrought and worn bear witness, comply, and knead

This ached torpedo forces windows to appear

The chorus beckons likened thoughts

What do you make of it:

- The silence.

- The void.

- The in-between spaces.

Time gathers, lightly

How to once find the orbit as learned again

This searing torpedo won't mistake its guidance

Rippling with indifference where to heal - of expectation! Of worth!

Acquainted with the present,

Stripped from belief

staring out at the auburn canvas

This torpedo is cast open