I can see you coming
out of yourself
a kettle at its limit
pieces of ivy harshly
separated from a taut,
nowhere to be found but here.
I can see your unsettled mystery
sharing time with familiar morsels
washing yourself clean of stationary thoughts
away with the simple entrance, exit
of night and day.
how nothing can hide from itself for too long.
(especially when it lives on the other side of the mind)
blame who you ask
a. those who place a monopoly on suffering
b. those who create their own identities based on hating the other
c. those who have spent years ignoring the obvious truth
teachers professing a dream available to few
a nightmare on the other side of blue.