The Moment Passes

I am here, with the moment passing

Marks of content

Barrel of lust

Stone cold action

I am here, watching features blend

Into skin deep cement

Right inside

This rubber bend

I am here, lights on us

Performing banter

The crowd loves us

As sparkles your eyes

I am here, an observer

Hoping this makes sense

In mornings, dusted cars

Jackets too cozy

I am here, steady contention

What is eerie?

In pseudo silence

Mopped in together

Moments passing

These obsidian sculptures

Forlorn in movement

Waiting for you

To return to arms

Today I post poetry, to express what I cannot form yet. Waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.