Fortune Teller Conclusion
You wanna know sumpin sumpin?!
In the garden of life's relentless seasons,
bloom and wither,
don't ask me, for WHATEVER REASON,
faceted petals fall like molted feather,
turn to moltened Carbonite
if you get the right bearer.
YOU GET ME, miss been self miss-treatin?!
Each moment is a fragile puzzled masterpiece, for reason,
to pick you up in it's pieces and
put you into the big picture.
(Just like your man should be doin!), mm"
"You see, in the Carnival of souls,
"the ocean of wandering orphans",
(each an ingredient, expedient to it's own-
notions- honed- expose ').
Liquid, potions alchemized in the chemistry
of personalitay,
conceived in sonar avatars place-holding for the
"genuine article" for sanctioned interactivity
(in demarcation zones), I must say.
Looks like yours has been crossed on the way!"
In our cult of masks that influence the
wearer to be convinced of true identity as proof in the mirror.
Things cannot be made to be unclearer.
You gotta be yourself baby, shine on, be it what it may!
You know that, a Phantom of the Opera has taken sanctuary in the midst of the scene,
plays on your emotions like aphrodisiac
given a Mati Hari, please!"
That's why she ain't been talking to me!
A trailblazer, that one,
igniting the bloom of your seasons,
igniting strength in the depths of vulnerability,
pregnancy out of the dark tunnel
of winter reclusivity.
Her fertility ritual sparking a coming of age,
and the pairing as a wage.
I may be a muse, but she, she is not only acting in motherhood, baby, she is the stage!
You don't want to miss that show,
I am telling you right now.
Not that anyone does.
She is open for business.
You know what I mean!?
But you see there is a cost.
Feelings are the price of the ticket,
it's dealings skulldug-in-triplicate.
In the abyss of despair, hope lingers,
like a monster, there.
Momma Moon, winks, anytime honey, anytime.
Copyright ©
Jude Herrick
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