serious statistics

they grow from my pores

like seeds from soil in spring,

great and earnest expectations.

both know, allegedly inadvertently so…

they stretch tall like trees,

positively correlating rings with speed;

hence, manifestly juxtaposed to human

decay, most of it, anyway.

the world isn’t made for the blind

who still see, because after all,

you may not need eyes to see.

you see, seeing may be such a different

momentum to me than it ever has been

to a world making rules to confine

and control change. change

could and probably would

grind the glories of love.

so really, the conditionality of love,

lies not in its nature per se,

but rather in our need for it.

it may simply be so, true, for

some, anyway. so is there

a negative correlation between ranges

of freedom and the need for tender loving?

is that the tradeoff that opportunities

cost? and is the only alternative

solemnly savage?