I awake one doubt
in every syllable of speech,
until I'm so thick with apprehension
that I can hold steady
no feet.
I'm hardly certain
from this angle,
too blunt
to be of use.
Every bluff remains constant
in a puddle of sleep.
I'm growing dim in the density
of the dispassion
you seem to wreak of.
The streaks that stretch in slim awareness
greet every season
callously.
I'm only imperceptible
in the chair right next to yours,
with no perspective
and wooden
features.
Author notes
"Obtuse"
Chaos rampant
A contest entry
- be your own inspiration by silverscent.
450 points, ended October 27, 2008, 22 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
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