I am the carbon copy.
In imitated allegiance to The Original.
Convincingly convinced. Eyeless laughter
Betrayed only by an internal texture
Too fine to discern without pressure.
Leading the bee to nectar
To perfume and petals
That will fade and bleed without ceremony
Leaving nothing like wings.
An inaudible thing to ears
Naturally attuned to authenticity.
The Fraud –
Walking forwards across horizontal stairs
That don’t point down
So will suffice as proof
Of a life striving skywards