The Great Mirage.

The Great Mirage

We all lose concentration.
We all drop conversation.
We all fall in the harbor
while we’re staring at the water.
We’re starved for recognition,
thick with preservation,
wet with hesitation, screaming
at the sky.

Who may not have a taste
for the Clos Vougeot,
who may prefer the cola,
who would choose lime Jell-O
over crème brûlée?
My love, it happens every day.
There is nothing you can do.
But it is not you, oh no, my love,
it is not you.