Curious Obsession

We dance by the window

shadows on the wall,

glance upward

at the wonder of it all.

Existence may have meaning,

desire its reward,

tomorrow may bring solace or

escape from blinding repetition,

yet i still choose to

capture fleeting moments with the

timbre and rhythm

that only words convey.

Consider it a sign

of childish vanity or

unashamed idleness

to be so possessed by

what is barely palpable,

lacking substance,

devoid of obvious purpose.

It is a measure of my weakness,

and my strength

a curious obsession.