GRAND ENTRANCES

I approve of the loneliest poets

Shying away in their mysterious worlds

I am similar to them,

Yet my mask is blended

Making me the unexpected host of the party.

I'd find it nice if I could have the chance to breathe.

My dreams seem to float just under from my peripheral vision

And so they are not accessible

Just like the dear minds of us poets.

Is the glitter enough to drown your lungs?

Or shall I indulge in more carefully covered fingerprints

Until my mind is smothered too; like my dreams.