It seems I can only be seen
when I linger here in between
what was and what will be —
this elusive, ever liminal me…
On the cusp of real revelation,
yet never in true jubilation,
is where I do love to hide —
neither within nor outside.
Thresholds are where I live,
receive these gifts I then give,
sealed here tight in this ink,
unveiling secrets on the brink.
Leaving me left beyond time,
reveling in the realm of rhyme,
as I weave all of these lines
in keeping with poetic designs.
Or so it all does now seem
inside each and every dream,
each and every bled word,
still lost and longing to be heard.








I hear you, you are not unheard. Great write!
Brilliantly penned, LDF. A very powerful write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
I had to slow my thoughts while reading this testimony
So…so relatable
Much respect
Naaj