A wave

The curious thing about people,
human beings,

other than their innate desire to
take everything around them
spin it thin and flexible,
twist it up,
and tie it around themselves,

is the fact that every one of them:
blue, green, brown, hazel,
cataracts,
the greased windows to the soul,
every one of them:
Cancer, HIV, Bi-polar, lame,
Every one of them,
Every one of them,
Every one of them,
Every one of us…

feels,
has felt,
will feel,
an indescribable wave of loneliness;
at some point it will crash into them,
and it comes from almost nowhere,

sometimes we drown,
sometimes we catch our breath
– a shoestring lasso around an air bubble-
we use it to pull ourselves back up,
sometimes we suspend our belief
that we are merely one,
one in none
one in nothing,
that nothing else could possibly be on this plane.

and we lie,
and we lie,
and we lie,
and we lie,
it cannot be written enough that we lie.

we lie in hope of seeing
the reflection of ourselves
in the silent
surrounding water,
as it rushes by,
rushes by,
rushes by.