Your overhead lights of pragmatism reached places my mind, sprawling with spontaneity, could never have envisioned With time, you fall prey to your own prison of hypervigilance What shall I use to counter your barbed wire that refuses aid? What mafia should I send to kick-start a jailbreak— masquerading as redemption to the rebellious side of bohemian buoyancy? A prison awaiting liberation I shimmy down the blinds of surveillance, risking the line of fire— just to reach you, just for your blade of rejection to pierce every viscera. A fountain of red I become I must appear in the pages of a Kubin sketchbook— imperfect in your eyes that sought perfection A speedbump that derails the righteous trail you were born for A hyacinth to cluck at A cardboard untouched in the attic, until your swept dust of seasoned knowledge makes me its home That's when I knew: change was here to stay. I receded through the back door, a mouse anxious to avoid traps You emerged