Pieces

Pieces

Building up the pieces
Scattered all around
A border, framed yet crooked
The picture's left unfound

Forever left a mystery
For fear it will prove
Too bland, grand, lacking history
… or just too far removed

From images we advertised
The colours on display
With tones and textures flattened by
The games we choose to play

The lies we tell to sell our truths
The feet we leave in doors
The mysteries we market, smooth
The worms on hooks, their draws

We draw them out, long like a blade
Cut down forbidden fruits
Incisions cut, to make a mark
Down back streets, scenic routes

Just hoping that when pictures form
They live up to the dream
All the things we want and more
And everything between

Between the goods we promised first
And produce that we bring
Stakes bluffed brought to tables, raw
A con fit for a king

To get into a maiden's heart
Before they see in yours
To prove you could still play your part
Despite the picture's flaws

Too soft and yet too sharp to view
The resolution scares
In case the puzzles left unsolved
Rest easy... you are there

Midst pieces scattered far and wide
Mixed up, distanced, near
Some people, they were born inside
... sometimes the picture's clear