By Steven Glifford
The world goes through a growth spurt during a shower:
A jigsaw puzzle of wood and glutinous darkness,
swishing elsewhere liquidly, owns a
roofless heart,
a reflected candelabra without an originator.
Legions leap eons with subtle intensity.
Black fire pulls back to an underground city of the blind.
People radiate objects.
Leukemia is sleeping. A once only child
plays solitaire among company, resisting to glance at a
divorce of time. the living room hovers in the middle.
A hinted life passes by. Invisible falling.
Category: Poetry