The oblivious ones…

I sit with

And hold

And feel—so close to my skin…

Pain buzzing in the chaos of nameless passersby

Pain buzzing in the named and the known

Their unspoken woes–visible

Their pain—a dormant viper waiting to strike

Their myopic delusion

So clear your bones break…

But they—don’t see

They hurt and they don’t see

They cover the mirror and live with whispers


But you—have not the bliss of ignorance

You cannot shut the door and hear—silence

The buzzing vibrates always…

You can be like stoic Atlas

Or—you can dance like a Tai Chi master

Gathering all the chi like a magic ball

Whirling and swirling

Cotton candy—pink and soft and sweet

The perfection of Michelangelo’s unfinished slaves


Transforming pain to prayer

Oblivion to bliss.

-June, 2018