caught, as if bystander-predisposed,
between a perception
that is either luridly lucid or lucidly lurid.
the visuals stand-alone
but the sensory intake and interpretation
is on me.
am I asking for conclusions to occur?
will a standalone judgement save me?
there is vastness of scramble occurring
inside of me as the feelings of process.
the long face of logic is making references.
fast-speak as inwardly mumbling is occurring.
my emotional self wants sidedness to occur
as if to feel a seating arrangement has been assigned.
quite subtly, I notice the speed
with which all of this is mentally on a drumroll,
as if results and conclusions march to this beat
that morality plays and sensibility listens . . .
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