a devil's wage

a hidden road, a fast lane, an unspoken treaty: to never mention this because it is not polite! the leaves covering nakedness someone have some modesty; or not - huffed the pouty man while the slow lane is all hogged up with fat kids unable to keep going as the roads keep opening for those willing to make some compromise on what has always been relative takes two to argue and the dashers are racing into places coveted never mind the deep philosophies the battles of the mind and heart can all be redone when the prize is had and the ludicrous became the wise way, who won? who won? they looked like cats just having eaten the canary; tongue still licking away at remnants of memory memory is a keen thing, keeps up with tasks, the physical the mental --- and deeper than flesh as the cheshire cat comes out of memories and a mirror reflects back the aging, the turning, the metamorphosis of innocence, of naivety, of deep burning desire at all cost - to take that leap. arguments can be saved for later later has arrived and a stranger stares at bliss and security without a heartbeat. such excitement in days past - who was that person? for bit by bit, the devil bites off pieces of bliss and security eternal and gave what was a reflection. like the mirror now reminding - and a man who is still arguing with himself that it was all worth it.