Royal insists on servitude, bowing heads with bleeding arcs,
where fine promenades fill halls, masks are worn away
Sequined thoughts no longer shine from
unclear memory, but if I dust it off
I could remember, though I prefer its loss.
There’s a safety in not recalling lousy incidents; it’s comforting.
While gleeful others relish in one’s misfortune … as
royal purpleness is forever satisfied with this design.
To swim in different directions, our lives are
floating in an unsynchronized fashion that’s
crisscrossing now and then …
believing it takes great restraint,
pretending we are somewhere that we’re not.