Poetry

Caught in a second (1)

Are you with me, or against me?

my reflection demands,

so far into the night 

when the hour is late

and the starlight looms down

like white eyed judges at an execution.

My reflection demands a verdict, 

and although my hair won’t be singed,

I may lose my head.

I may lose some ghost 

of a dream, 

some fantasy of a possibility may 

take flight.

For how can what is seen 

and what is felt

ever be reconcilled at this dark hour?

How can the answers find the questions?

I stare rigidly 

back at myself, 

chained to the weight in my eyes,

chained to the gravity of this 

impossible sense of cosmic variables.

How can what has been seen,

Ever be reconciled with 

what is real?

And still-

Are you with me, or against me?

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