ICONOCLAST IN FURS

Scrape together a focus

Try to remain centered

without being persuaded to deviate

Try to see patterns emerging from fields of incoherency

Without logic to crave

Be one without mimicking

the two next to you

Morph from grey to grayish

Without caring if this will turn out to be
the final imbue

Let the straps of human bondage come undone

For angel wings only clatter for some

Because In so many ways

You are my lantern in these tattered days