Domino

We each pay a fabulous price for our visions of paradise.
Running feverishly from shore to water, each stride
getting more strained as the levels rise above our waists.
No sooner has the water reached our mouths we surrender.

Keep going.

We each sell our wildest dreams for small desires.
Hoping that the holes in our hearts can be filled in the
meantime with empty promises and hopes of tomorrow.
Wandering within ourselves until we concede we are lost.

Keep going.

We each buy ourselves prizes from those willing to sell.
Trading all of our progress for an opportunity to prove
to complete strangers our value, our market resale value.
Constantly filling voids, covering wounds, masking fates.

A jar upon a shelf of such beauty and magnificence
need not be filled with expensive jewels.
Its uniqueness serves its own purpose. Not empty or
unfulfilled. It simply is beauty, the way beauty was intended.