Neman Told Me

The clarity of it all. The glitter of the noise once enveloped, Burst out into bits of incertitude. It should be succinct but, Sounded like a rippled sense of warning. A threat that was also a hug. The glitter was an emphasis; It wasn't gold. With the puny efforts of a supposedly scented life, While the garments are continuously hemmed with unkept promises, Neman held the outstretched hands. Hands wide open but scarred. Wondered if it was right to hold them; The noise once enveloped; The sound of it all; Neman told me it glittered more. Like a starry vision with tingles. Holding those hands with a fidget. To let go or not...