I see a spectacle of colors appear before my mind 
an epochal of lusters that seem undefinedwho is the adjuster, of how the patterns are designed?
a red and orange criss cross and then suddenly align
then a quiver of green shivers and intertwines
enter in a wall of golden blue that sparkles and shines
different hues of purple that leave my pupils blind
helping me see a balance of energy and time 
in a circle of synergy that spins perfectly aligned

it isn’t linear, my time
it addresses me in circles undefined 
they individually rotate in front of a mirror and intersect with lines 
I reflect pinpointing the more nearer for a sign
I’m always thinking about myself in different times
trying to access the lines aligned outside the confines
of my imaginative mind 

because…

my imagination and its narration
I’m always wrestling against time with much frustration

is it really that unrefined, my relation?
I allude the connection of sounds and vibrations of a clocks ticking rotation

I’m so bound and glued to the sensation,
of wondering what’s behind or beyond a moments duration