An I For An I

I can manufacture the perfect
Inner quagmire.
But rather than fester in’t-
I mine the force that gives

I stand in a swamp and absorb
The cathedral of nuance,
The clarity of character,
The complexity of contingency
Is but a wave to an ocean,
A shine to a sun.

Truth bleeds through the universe’s pores
And screams in a foreign tongue
Into the deaf ears of the mindless, stilted content.

I am the student.
The teacher.
The lost.
The found.
The messenger.
The proof.
The link.
The beat.
The limb.
The feet.

And I know nothing.

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