Nathan AM Almeida

[24 September 2019]

Hung
between twin peaks of desire
and despair, a duality of being, a philosophy of
kinds, mismatched mannerisms and minutiae and
mosaic tiles cobbled together to fashion
something (what, I don’t know – I’d step
back to gain perspective but I’m afraid
I’d lose my balance): the salt
water of the river chips away at
the wall between us (is that load-bearing
or just for aesthetics) and the noon
turns to twilight turns to midnight.