Filters falling October 3

no sound, this evening is a perfect document
we have a conflict of meaning, of direction
all of a sudden the mirror is clean
desperation to spell words, skim onions, sketch nonsense.
you can’t be honest, you can be loving
you need sweetness to dull the passage of life – sharp, inconsistent and dirty.
maybe my world is small
I live in a room, roam virtually
connect with symbols:
but your world is big,
you can fly
why do you blame me
of holding you down?