Counterfeit Money

All money is counterfeit






































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Arpeggios

Thoughts unclouded or
A hollow teardrop

When we ask a question
We do not seek answers
We seek a connection

A blissful consequence

Bread kneaded with wise fingertips

Glue sticks toppled over on a messy table

When will the confusion become the beds we make
The meals we consume
On serene Sunday mornings

Serenade or séance

A deciduous forest
Soon becomes the vessel
Playing the soundtrack to our lack of faith

There is only one lifetime
We are living it

Together

Never is the only word without a schoolmate
Like a secret URL to the wounds
Our mothers nursed as infants

Imaginary luggage loops around the baggage claim
Waiting to be retrieved by barefoot passengers

Snapshots embedded in the language of a harsh rebuttal

Our cleverness malnourished

We row ships out into the busiest intersection
Of a half built metropolis

A thorn of crowns on our heads

An acropolis
The geography of our limitations

Billions spent to send tin archetypes
Out into the darkest regions of our universal mind

Satellite images shot back to space stations
Delivering reproductions of worlds
Our eyes are not designed to comprehend

A light bulb is blown out
An abduction interrupted by a
Public service announcement

The density of destiny
Martyr or mortar

A calico curls into a pillow
Wind rattles the window

Underneath the floorboards
The mice are shooting dice

Awake

A wake for the living held but unattended

For the sake of a single grain of sand
We practice the art of forgiveness
The science of patience

The talisman around a parched throat
Keeps discontent at bay