Polite Disregard

Seeing is through disbelieving.

Not through the tampering or elimination of thoughts,

But the polite disregard for their quiet stories of un-joined-up-ness,

And for the forever broken replica of life that we hold up as life.

And if you turn, for a moment, away from these words,

You’ll find a loyal reality that was never broken,

A joined-up life, as life can only be.

You’ll find loved ones who were never apart from you,

And you’ll laugh at the nightmare of things seeming not to be so

And you’ll take a friendly swat at those clumsy clouds that float right through you

As if they owned the place.

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