Monolithic

Where we watch ourselves in punishment
Control of relentless sanity,

Follow the trickle of light as it follows itself,
Mould round the curves of the ink
That solicits the measures of real on the page.

Whether through a partial poem
Seeking love or a tale that is not love owing,
It moves towards the soul that needs, looks back,
The connection, the human(ist) confection.

Mollified other to you, when you're not there,
In the sold, outright unequivocal,
Vague memory, oubliette profusion,
Incomplete distilled, illusion.