Thursday, June 4, 2015


There is an order to the way things are done around here
Innate is my intuition and execution of these orders
I fathom the indisputable method and relinquish my resistance.
Leaning in to the way I unfold, I intuit the scheme that Is;
As though the boney, kind finger of a woman in her nineties
Reminds me gently to flow in the direction I know
Offering tidbits of sense among the nonsense
Through the cumbersome stills of deja vu.

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