In lives we share with none but ourselves,
Blessed truth we enthuse in cinematic wells,
Swelling with landscape and fantastic textures,
All the while dreaming our conscious quells.
Turning cheeks as pressure retrieves
Our point to voiding relative means,
As an artist employing space and theory
Giving essence a cadence to intrinsic indemnity.
Our exemplified life-force and vagary which
Will be debated as intrusion of ourselves and reality.
But in life there’s few places to live decidedly as
Preciousness of our passions in the fullness and reality.
I hope this makes sense to some folks.