buds

In the adopted state of repeated
mortal vulnerability,
the dizziness of the nominal emptiness
finds slight bliss in the simple
existence of a question
asked in my hypothetical direction.
"I exist!"
The ease of endlessness
ends with the one-to-two-time
pleasantries as if that is all
we live for-
surrounded by giggling
inhibitions
teetering along with the
teething certainties of something.
"The concept of the muse
of the muse amuses me too."
"Yes, I agree with the lascivious
nature of nature."
"You too, have taken the
guided tour of self-expression?"
"Oh no. It's just a quick spot
to grab lunch on break."
If this effort isn't interest,
what is it? "Decency?"
I think I'll go be alone
for a while, or so.