She leans in when she listens. Even if it’s not that
Deep of a bend, small gains in proximity
Breed familiarity allowing her to become privy
To a certain knowing through the low latitude of grace:

“...decades of effort reduced to nothing—
To less than dust—wiped away like time
Never passed or all the movement had not been
Real. Trial and error and success and even truth
Disappear in instantaneous disintegrations, mimicking
The groggy sleeper waking from dreams destined
To leave remnants of images that can’t be trusted
Because the mind believes it sees all there is to be
Seen, even when looking from behind closed eyelids—
Leaving déjà vu the only comforting feeling left
To be felt.”

11/17/2018

Posted on 11/17/2018
Copyright © 2024 Rob Littler