I think maybe
with just the right kind of courage,
we can circumnavigate these wild precepts.
Stark-eyed and mystified,
we watch the skies for intrusions.
Light seeps secretly away
as night comes like a barbaric yawp
and ensnares us in its echo.
Something doesn’t really add up.
But what was I thinking?
Certainly, there’s a feeling,
but one of indeterminate character.
And with its mounting rhythm,
we circulate profusely
in and out of the gaps
our mutual memory leaves untainted.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 