No valor, nor do I revel
in my flight from, leave taken
from the devil (Validation). To re-
trieve my soul I’ve followed–*allowed*–
all that is unvetted, alert to the flirtation
between trivial and vital, most alive
in the unraveling of that divide.
I rave, I veer, I falter. I am
terrified. Delivered.
Art
2 thoughts on “Art”
Leave a Reply to Elisabeth Workman Cancel reply
I think every word in this poem rhymes! Musix.
Rhymes and is birthing! “Delivered” from the black hole of “devil (Validation.)”