skeptics dissipate

any shimmer

they clear the air of rival,

delicate facts

and violently dust all

remains of shadowed words

whisking away

protective layers of fluff

inherently despised

survival of the fittest

believers of nothing

...not even self?

suppose the majesty

declared her vote for love

where would the world fall?

days gone of obedient lines

nodding to words of God’s Grace

helpless to their meanings

their madnesses

their greeds and troubles

now we’ve all cocooned

and, bursting forth in royal velvets

and silks,

cry laws and demands

on the world




to no one