Short Interstices Poems

Your scars showed up in my existence,
whispering shards of hatred. 
eyes made reflections of soul 
in which you and i were a part of.
ran through the cold frames
yet no rose could fit 
the interstices of your soul. 
we after our last breaths
in the doors of heaven,
hymns our fate....

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life on the edge
of a thread
suspended from a network
of interlocking filaments
bound by triangulated interstices
woven by a master of deception
integrated into his lair
lying in wait
patient vigilant and aware
of what disturbs motion
intersects light
ever ready to ensnare the unaware
who venture into the transparent maze
suspended mid-air...

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These are the spaces I confide
These are the narrow crevices 
These are the places I reside
These are the secure refuges

Upstairs attics with small windows
The quiet corners where I go
The hidden chambers no one knows
Downstairs cellars through secret doors

There I have my room for dreaming
Room to create and postulate
Pose questions and probe for meaning
Riddles and rhymes to contemplate

In there the world does not dictate
And there I have less room for hate....

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