no ambition <br />to nail the truth down, <br />bask in the glory, <br />shove it down throats <br />starved for messianic voice <br /> <br />or to cut and paste, <br />digitize, and cyber immortalize it <br /> <br />I crave your story <br />but the moment is all we have <br />back to back, side by side, <br />in each others face <br />we are worlds apart <br /> <br />I hear your eyes whisper <br />'what we think we are' <br />my tongue twirls flavors <br />of the earth's cuisines <br />from your mouth can only read a language <br />fractured by the movement of your lips <br /> <br />we blaze blasphemous trails <br />to rise above sanctioned huts <br />with bolted doors, <br />shuttered windows, <br />and fetish fueled excursions <br />through the world wide web <br /> <br />in the realm of wooden clocks <br />no one knows whose spring is stronger <br />or who's first in fate's line <br />or the bottom line <br /> <br />so place your bet <br />spin the dial <br />draw your straw <br />or you might kneel on the floor <br />and beg some god to show you more than <br />what we think we are<br /><br />Lee Crowell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-we-think-we-are/
