Mist

Our being as little growing kid 
may have been pretendly settled,
Analyzed, categorized, classified, 
although hardly apprehended,
as solely has it really manifested, 
altering living surrounding frequencies.    

Dimension of mother, beard of male,
Explosion of the orange ball,

a tale we tell ourselves repeatedly,

Hardwired circularity,

alienating past as fictional,
alter experience was instead reality
Ego oblivion twisting to mere vanity,
One grabbing a door ajar at closed mist
Another enforcing a snapshot that doesn't exist.