Set me free of this irony
that is anything but what's her name?
Too many spoons and all you need is fork
or
just a small spark of imagination.
It is all a game with a long forgotten name.
Predated and fated.
Jaded and traded
I know not what I say.
My fingers lead the way
and the farther back I stand,
the more likely I am to land on two feet.
Or at the very least a comfy cozy seat.
Cause I am a mere vessel, a shell,
of something that I cannot name.
Pull my string,
wind me up,
and poof- aloof
I spin away to the top of the highest tree.

I hide,
you seek
--marco polo-
don't peek.
Close your eyes.
I will tell you no lies.
Trust me please.
The breeze will carry my voice to you.
Follow the sounds that you can see-
don't trust your senses.
hop those fences
and
believe you are alive
for once upon a time
this was not a dream.
We were not always
spending our days
in muffled screams.
Singing murderous melodies
of sexual innuendo.

Let me take you away
to a place
where wandering eyes never venture.
The vultures don't dare enter.
Let me show you
sensory deprivation
and
spin in a spiritual dimension
where the songs
sing like they belong
and
the words matter the most
but not at all.

© fire_tamed_dame