Tuesday Night Post #31 / by DBL

Molecules of the Same Substance,

I find it clear tonight that what one choses to become might be the choice already chosen.


*     *     *     *     *

Spilling on a Thought

Folding a paper

that has time impregnated in it

points cross

I wonder if dogs have

occurrences of random recall

Forming a square

time leaks

from the creases

One hand cupping

the other to support

I empty into my hand

figures that remind me

My skin remembers only

what it touches

With this thought

I look to see

who will remember

this moment

No one

Who will have this job

For me I am not one to react

Left to wonder myself

these things that occur

Pouring through my hand

my face finds the ground

I find company in the liquid

of this paradox

Treading in the mistake

that lead me here

my foot gets stuck in a fold

Flesh or pulp

I do not know

Tugging straight

into another mistake

Lucky me

I am the viewer and the holder

I remove myself

With the lose of perspective

once again I find myself

spilling on a thought