please convince me
that life h(old)s purpose
like a mouth holds words
or teeth
before a punch
I always stand
a(lone in the rain
finding the b(lush
and the cold rush
beautiful
yet I sit on benches
for times beyond
beyond two
thinking you’d remember
if I were Buddhist enough to you
and I may
may pick my battles
and weapons
still I cannot
always win
everything
even everything
I treat as war