Sticky fly paper.

Do you think it’s true 

that there’s a door to a enchanted coastal room 

buried somewhere in a sand dune.

Games of brinkmanship they have now closed 

this is a place not for mere mortal minds 

That fold and stare at the glow of a dark star 

casting luminous shadows 

having lost those in the sky above

to a paper breezing through the street.

Insula isolation found 

where a pendulum swings above the

Waves that erase the readers queries each day

Idle hands leading  you away 

from secret caves underneath 

the peaceful fallen leafs.