15 Tokens of Sobriety (Michel’s Poem)

Unknown to me is this going to be, and mystery is a name I know only in synonym.

Drag is the light that turned marked off my head, checked out again with a seven, degrees aways from upside writing.

Enigmatically I proceed and do not make to you what and who, where, or why.  How is the question the poser in my voice posts positively, without reason I chose to use these letters, within outbound regard the box dark years away.

As I read and flail on let without my consolation gathered from faces without again, a third of the 100 percent not even met by the chosen attitude and abusive diluted under calculated ignorance shared in the false light coming out of places known pleasure and not.

Knotted together are these sentences current, titles to this versus each other in futility, if you had to label my story as any, why not all and every, or nothing to your understanding would be sufficient to a inward question of love that reflects only a suffix to the same novel called words put together due to the possibility of moon activity in the vastness of possibility met in the finger strokes palming together again handsomely.

-M

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