i am OK. and you?

nobody’s asked me
“are you OK?” in a while.

perhaps the more pertinent
question might’ve been
“how OK are you”?

my demons lie dormant
in the spaces negated
by fingertips painting
shelters and doors

i set aside
divining rods
cast my shadows
into an abyss of light.

didn’t banish the monster
the monster learnt
to slide down the banister

oh, adaptation
what a groovy mutation.

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