Miscalculations of due dates and run ins
Hope for a better day.
Placed on a couch like the other cushions
While ignorance is being held to high
Standards in the other room.
If geography crates culture
I lay silently on solid green waves
In hopes that I was wrong.
Dissonance is hardly what I bargained for
But the cognitive mind never accounts for fate.
Synthetic love is no more than a highway overpass
And she is a spider on the nape of cool winds.
The rainbow after the rain isn't
Enough to calm an angry adolescent.
As I catch white-knuckled glimpses of her cry for love
I watch as no one answers.