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The Poetry that Inspires!

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The Eye’s Yolk

In a sharpened, shapely parking lot, she’s lost

On a route doomed to repeat

A concrete sidewalk lined by gridlocked dots

The subway starts and stops

Clogged and ceaseless is the insomniac machine

Consistently spitting routine

As follows: Consume, spend, and compete

The day-drawn drones grip their caffeine

Who weeping and wounded wait for the weekend

To sleep

By muted midnight, her lids part from gravity

Thoughts untether, truth unties, as her lashes intertwine

She finds she knows exactly where she’s going

But never why

Reduced to an automated beat, her body breathes

She’s released

Watching toppling towers recompose themselves in dream

The sideways eye seeps into a river of spilled yolk

Repopulating a realm of symbolism, unknown and unspoke

Felt but unseen

The sunny side seeps through the wide window screen

In with the light, saunters the dawning breeze

She’s clutched by silken quilts, enfolded in woven warmth

Her lashes betray her by prying apart

Her mind betrays her by forgetting her heart

Her eye’s irises arise and narrow at the horizon’s lies

She wants to return, and tries

She vaguely thinks, behind the walls of sleep

A truth only a shut eye can see

Is closed with its blink

Sereana Lindsey copyright 2014