New poem: Could it be Reality?

Could it be reality?







Having open arms, the lash rings out against flesh,

and the pain of love falls upon me fresh.

Fearless in the face of repeat offense, repeated mistakes,

and standing defenseless before contradicting makes.

Could denial be our only true reality?

Denial of self, of others, of pain, of conflict, of love, denying

it all washing over passionate apathy.

Flesh being fearless, open and defenseless to repeated offense.

Arms lashing out fresh upon me, pain passionately apathetic.

Could love be our only true reality?

Love of self, of others, of pain, of conflict, of love, loving

it all washing over passionate apathy.

Open to standing over reality, rings on flesh, before

and after contradicting defenseless passion.

Always on my mind, dancing in denial, dancing mile

after mile, before lonely miles.

Could acceptance be our only true reality?

Acceptance of self, of others, of pain, of conflict, of love, accepting

it all washing over passionate apathy.

Back to chest, skin to skin, sinking into open arms,

and the joy of companions soaks into me unharmed.

Time solid and still, sun frozen at the edge,

and preparing to leap, unafraid, off the ledge.

Could this be our only true reality?

This self, these others, this pain, this conflict, this love, this

all washing over passionate apathy.