133. Stalking the Soul


Life’s a facade,

Crammed comprehensively with faces;

Vibrantly stroked charade,

Of nonsensical graces.

Dreams are clearer,

Fantastically textured residue,

Of the looking mirror;

And in the soul reigns most true.

Speak in mine ear,

Not of erratic, conclusioned-truth,

Rather of the fear,

That dreams must be lost in dead-youth.

Dreams lie transposed,

Sedulously entrancing my core,

Vulgarly exposed,

But reverently sought even more!

K. Aldaya, 4/16/05

Picture:  “Lost in the Crowd” by ShisSharon on Flickr; https://www.flickr.com/photos/28291679@N06/3954821896/