I know there are circles my friends
where you cringe to be joined to my name.
A misfit for so long, so well
I wasn't saddened or stunned
to know of your intents concealed.
Yours be the dances and drinks.
Yours be the groupfies of joy.
Chosen, I only could make
a grey little corner all blurred.
Unwell in brightest of lights,
I'll flicker as I do
in a dim little niche
and offer you a chat without guilt,
provided you call me at least.
Zen-like I walk along quays
and gaze at the untiring waves,
which yet sing of stillness of change.
What service in bringing too close,
currents that are meant to diverge?
So I float to the rhythms of heart
and leaving apart old sullen ways
search for new kindred points
glimmering on yet unknown shores.