However

In the dawnlight conclave
I will confine myself and see that I am, however, free

as sorrowful as the silent times that may approach me be,
them, creeping over the dashboard
the flashing lights in whatever road will blind
my glaring eyes and still,
I'll be, however, happy.



Who plundered the unknown ribcages of my fellow dreamers,
who turned my blue eyes into jet
and put the blackened truth in my tongue's pulp?

I am, however, waylaid.


© Text: Victoria Bardot, 2014
  Image: source unknown

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