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Magician's Assistant


 I hoard minutes 

in a prison of digits

where the bars are prisms 

and the lights, delights.


I weigh bliss 

on a scale of cause

where the weights are loss 

and the needles, flaws.


I count peace 

on a tally of smiles

where the lines are lies 

and the equations, deceptions.


I look too close

yet I see very little

I feel too much 

yet feelings, riddle.


ecstasy eludes

as I stalk its scent 

taunting me

while smiles around ascent.


now I'm chasing Melancholy 

and she's chasing me back

running around in circles never ready to attack.


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