Teetering Incandescence

Indescribable diffusion,
and tense joy
wash over me,

fruitful silence,

as one hand grips
the bald
steering wheel tight
the other
is loose
with confusion,

fumbling for
stray wires,
or cold coffee
soon to be forgotten,

but the Universe
hasn’t misplaced
what I owe her –
blindly
giving me all
that I need
to foil,
or free
my enemies
from the wrath
she placed inside me,

the burning chaos
that once lived
at the core
of an ancient dancing
ball of light

© Christopher Rupley 2016

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