If I had taken my blinders off.
What would I see?
Everything that others have assumed to be?
The aberration is dim.
Not yet completely out of sight.
Gleam to a dull knife.
So this is what happens when you can no longer afford disillusionment?
Potted and plotted on the earth’s dance room floor.
Within such grounds,
magnetic beauty had not been the cure.
Covens where fashionable blindfolds are of use…no more.
Further proof, ‘you cannot take allure with you…when you go.‘
Just cold sores…grounded…above and below.