Wednesday to Wednesday - Daringly bashful and obscure as fuck.

Sometimes—

The lighting, purposefully and full of hushed sorts of majesty are dimmed

Without the romantic flickering of candlelight

Without much rhyme, without much reason.

The atmosphere drips, coloring the backdrop of my late-night rendezvous with silence and it’s sacredness. How it’s quiet nature flirts with the ticking of the clock and my current agreement with reality and the

Ringing

In

My

Ears

And the burgeoning second self.

The unseen, magnanimous second Self.

Namely, the medicines of Wednesday’s remain daringly bashful and obscure as fuck.

While the waxing crescent glows through the window pane

I saw off the threads of silent curses, alms and aims.

Leaving these old mental landscapes

For an entirely new name.

Mastering a new dance, maybe even

Surrendering to the steps to summon Rain.

The weighing of scales on Wednesday’s remains daringly bashful.

Cool, mercurial and: Sweet -

Trying nature’s luck

Packing heavy and walking light

Forever abstract and obscure a Fuck.