I am an Inversion
birthed in contrariety
my soul somersaults
through surly
metastasis
This state of antagonism,
a disconsolate sufferance,
is a bitter essence
The mirror casts back my visage
shapeless, undefined
a capricious vagabond
an eclipse of my youth
Lines in my face
reconstruct lines in the sand
battle-lines, crossroads
with imperceptible agony
And the cold void
between the missteps
is the reward
for being the Devil’s advocate