walk the dry path
that your meticulous trudging has
already shorn before you.  take
one step, two
soon you may come to ten or, if you're lucky,
thirteen.

the moon is patient, caught in the snare of
circumstance.  did you imagine that some
false summer night, wings clipped and that
easy grin that your victims know so
well, you would be walking this path?  subdued, tamed, a little
domesticated, a little scared.

happiness is a two-way street between passion and
acceptance.  you might just be happy, you
are not sure.  you almost don't
want to be.  happiness is a two-way street but god is
it mundane, normal, there is a reason that
happiness is always at the end of the movie as
if we cannot stand watching it only wish for it but
since it is always at the end we never really
know what it looks like and are you happy with your
clipped wings and tamed grin, are you
happy?

you lift your eyes.
you suppose you are
in fact,
happy.  the dry
path glints, echoes your
grin, and laughs at you.