INTREPID FOX
Writing from the inside out
every word without reason.
Vexing orders of transition
mixing instability with sense.
Crafting madness from within
as a tour guide from its realm.
In touch without touching
reigning Mayor of Nowhere.
Simulating a life without life
happy enough to be counted.
Confessions of “Not finished yet”
found in mystic places of light.
That which lay there, calls to us all
enticing the self, not so small
Inside the box, outside the box
what will you do, intrepid fox.
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