Where There Are Walls

Where there are walls
there were tripwires.
I am watching
you for both our sake.

No harm is ever done
or meant. My dice lie
loaded by their own seed.
Does this make their product
less true? Each face that’s raised
entangles its pair in a burial.

Reflected in a window,
I cannot guarantee
which image’s matter,
which of them anti;
wonder, if reflections
wonder this of me.

3 replies on “Where There Are Walls”


This poem is deep and circular. Is it a reflection
or is it reflection on the soul. Then there is always
amazon’s new mirror. I read your lines and think
of Plato’s cave.

“I cannot guarantee
which is matter,
which anti.”

The human condition, I think.

Very much enjoyed the poetry and the thoughts.


Liked by 1 person

The walls and tripwires brought to mind
emotional barriers.

The second stanza
made me think of dice being thrown,

“Each face raised
entangles its pair”

These lines, for me, feel like the speaker
in the poem might be questioning his own issues from the past:

“I cannot guarantee
which is matter,
which anti.”

Much enjoyed reading.
take care,

Liked by 1 person

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