Exploration (Poem)

There are lanes in your palm

with just as many paths

as the highway you cross.

An ultimate decision was made

to join your particular set of ebbs

flows

with that shade, blanketed beneath your eyelids.

Try this–

mark each standing sign

passing you by in your next dream

and tell me

at the end of the roam

your searching,

from the tip of your soul

to marrow of bone

how straight an arrow

you truly believe

a palm press

could ever be.

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One thought on “Exploration (Poem)

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