Bound
Bound by the light
stepping quietly into
the ring of existence
shrunken to no smaller than
a dot apparent to no one
Face calm, delicate fingers tapping
her long and slender thigh
movements subtle yet read
with oblivion, reluctance
truth setting nerves affray
drip, drip, drip
water slowly building
lands of enchantment, seen
by only the few, Truth etches
great stories onto the mind
dreamtime is no time, real time
saturates her pores until
oblivion is sought forgetting
the original Truth that brought
her here to the now.
Copyright © Cynthia Cross | Year Posted 2019
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