PASSAGES

In the quietness
between the wavering and shaky
pillars of presumptions
we travel
upon a limp carpet of illusionary
fibers
towards
the nirvana mirage
of our lusts.
Heaven’s cleansing rainbows
never
paint
all the layers in impulse
we have whitewashed
by our denial.
So we find
some cloud laughter
thundering with lies
to give us bent wings
till we awake.