We are here hunting haunting paradigm shifts
while our exquisitely glistening unreality spills
softly into the night in a secret shrine somewhere;
seraphic dreams (holy, profane, & tender) merge
yet meanings are not alike, they have multitudes,
nuances, that are tied to dreams, tastes, & neuroses
even when we strive for transparency,
while we cling to a fairy‑tale sense of identity
amid turbulent scenes, a delicate, fleeting glance
reveals a much needed allegory of sweetness, of
shadows redecorated by light beams, strategically.
I’d like to fathom you as more than a projected inner ghost or
an angel-minded muse or a presence enclosed
in a cage of their own making or a synthesised archetype,
I know you are real, but at times, for my own sake, I forget.