at night, when it seems
how I finally managed to
identify myself,
satisfied I would think -
how bad is my need for
a commonly encountered happiness,
which really is not so ordinary after all
because of my stubborn desire--
such a distortion of truth
really fits me perfectly
but each time
it's shaking my nerves again.
in any case
it's becoming annoying
as a habit
of indisposed behaviour;
my own state of mind
as something inappropriate, amorphous.
alternation then becomes a staple
in psychology.
imagine the power of modification,
alternating appearance of two different people
in the same role, perhaps
of two different roles in the same
person?
a simple hypothesis
becomes a reality.
© Tom Del Braco
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