Against All Farcical Odds

Finding me a shape rather than striking one, In and out of my fictionalized ego, Then, allowing me to live with the ambiguities- This is the best covenant you can offer And I wish I could settle on the way you shovel The cards I am holding, one eye on the hex of it. I am trying to shake you off my ochre cells In minute details of lung-filling hikes Of never crushing this scent of unreality. You say my face is schooled for beauty And then your mouth fills with foul words That rather build on my inner naked flame Than smother the thin transcendent stream of me. Here, one can see beyond the moral, philosophical attire, The plain of me who lives within the plain of you.