Envision
Touch lies through the same fingertips I touch clouds with
Thought high in the same sky birds soar
and square pi topped with the same whip
minus the cream of what dreams are made for.
Shoe taps from a soft bottom
Tick and tack stomps a steel toe
In the middle of things we look down on
and part of the area that solves the problem
Science the stream of what plagues faith
Speech the thing of what flames torch
Flies irritate the same as dice clank
with a head crack
Then a mind blank
Speaks a blank voice
Stubborn memory of a scandalous therapy
Remembering tragedy as the false oversees it
What I sing for
The day that I breathe for
Wake up to sympathy
That therapy is fed with.
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