I’m glad you’ve come to see that

Reality is only skin-deep

And its flavor fades at the taste.

Glad you know now that it’s faded to white

And glad that you can correct me

Cause white is every color

Summarized in a thread of whatever you’ve decided to name it this time.

I’m glad that you now see you can tempt your senses

And let them fall for anything.

Glad you see that through white curtains even rose-colored glasses fade

Into the distance,

Bleed into white roses and let color seep through

Like match light playing on hard wood.

Glad that you’ve realized that you can weave

And now know that thread is a convenience

when you find yourself lost and needing a net.

Glad that hope has lashed itself to your ankles

And even though you feel it’s dragging you down

It’s just reversed the senses,

Passing you unbeknownst through the firmament.