A breeze whips through the corridor and threatens to extinguish the light,

But it is only the whisper of a time-passed and a promise for the future.

Memories settle in the crevices of the aging house

 and begin to coat the windows

With their distortion-

Blinded from the unchangeable jungle surrounding the exterior,

The interior remains safe within the light of the fireplace

as the floorboards begin to creak

and the foundation resettles into an experienced philosophy.

Skeletons of years past clutter the closet as monsters creep back under the bed to sleep.

Asleep:

The spindle has cast Beauty asleep as Vanity waits

For the knight with the kiss to reawaken the passions killed-

Dead through deceptive malintention and ignorance.

Naivety lies motionless on the satin luster

While Maturity paints its face with cynicism.

This home is where the heart of a dreamer lies.

Within the white walls the gray doesn’t seem to matter,

But it all lies in the gray matter:

This photo-

This sketch-

This fantasy-

This reality-

This memory…

It all adds another wrinkle for Posterity’s sake

Whose gently woven dress makes waves in the space she occupies

While brewing coffee for Father-

-Time is a factor multiplied to a circle.

Infinite comprehension encircling the brain;

Sending signals:

Neurotic explosions firing rapidly in the eye movements

Moving towards blink.

Blink once and see reality;

Twice to see the fantasy;

Three times to clear the sleep away and comprehend the gray,

Or don’t blink at all

‘cause there’s no place like home

in the mind of a madman

playing with dreams to erase tagged insane logic

that negates social tract-housing

The sun shines in the kitchen where

Conversation takes place and the world is changed.

Gentle beams shine off the dress of Posterity,

Illuminating the distinct shades of the three-threaded weave:

Be careful not to cut one.