This thing
Is mystique, it’s betwixt,
Running up steel-like tabs punching in the temporary permanence of a thing undefined
This thing,
Turned upwards to face the powers beyond the screens and chemistry seeking validity from the most important source
This thing,
Strong, pulsating, driving a conversation – thick, heavy, breaking the concrete foundations that were laid down pre ’embers.
This thing
Gives sight to the unseen thoughts that once heard words that were false but rung true even on clearest nights lit by a full moon, This thing.
Could confuse me, This thing
Could renew me, this thing
Could undo me.
Words Become Me 