purpose

Will you scoff at the virtuous maiden

Whose eye catches mine

And she sees my purpose

Dust speckled and brittle sunshine,

She will make me whole again

My blackened ridges

Now doused in blue and gold

And will you scoff

when across the country I travel

Stealing sunsets you’ll never see

And moonlit views

In the 7th story window that bashes

Your ground level stained glass

Though I make my home

In the dusty pockets of the vibrant city

Your Malibu shelf sits unequally yoked

With the burdens of my future