I dance to the rhythm of imperfection
A slave to the beat of inconsistency
I could get free anytime I choose
I stop dancing whenever I tire
But my freedom is only in theory really
When the music stops my thoughts remain bound to perfecting the dance
As if the dance itself is freedom
And the desire for freedom the true Slaver
Is it love that you love
Or the idea of love
Maybe the desire to be loved
Over loving in return
Maybe you do love to love
But
Requited love you do not love
For love’s demand
To be confident
In your own strength to love
Requires a love you desire not
To first love you
Alone you love
And Death will find you alone
Tunnel vision some say
Zoned out
Lost
Gone
Not even close
David Copperfield in the mental planes
Houdini in the cerebral cortex
An apparently unapparent absence
With a disappearing reappearing presence of mind
An illusion of consciousness
Everywhere and nowhere at once
Visibly invisible
A cunning introvert caught in the act
J.Q.'Soul 