Their evidence spans proudly across my face;
rigid, unmoving wrinkles of grace
drawn in sands of love and hate.
Verses colliding at breakneck pace–
neatly traversing raw corners of space,
dissecting the fragile unbending flakes
and even introspectively commiserate
how the many angles of lies and truth converge,
possibility flowing through their electrical pulse.
Written in longhand, but often short;
clear boundaries, usually a taken space,
but rounding them out for give and take,
while unboxing and boxing my human state.
They go to impossible lengths to capture my soul;
modern designs borrowed from old.
An infinite periphery of quintessential.
walking a fine one until I know– my place
picture, Board and Batten Beauty, posted with permission by one of my favorite photo bloggers, Mitch Zeissler, photo hack and curious wanderer, Exploratorius