Saturday, May 18, 2013

Is He God?

Why do more people at the bottom 
look upwards? Have I forgotten how 
to become less? Has comfort stolen 
my memories or the struggle? Of God?
The man out my window is black
and how I fear the night. It's broad,
his piercing white smile. And he knows
he invokes my humanity. Where is my
real reflection? Is he me? Am I responsible 
for his smile?

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