Riding the edge of a coin

Riding the edge of a coin Tumbled emotions clang hard off reality, leaving behind traces of remorse Bumbled commotions, slang card, too real to me, heaving me to places way off course Can’t get a thought straight, weak signals rule our fate and darling you know we must get goin’ Then everything slides into place, the eyes on mine see the ones on your face, riding the edge of a coin Sliding through mechanisms, a series of complex schisms, dropping to rest in a box of steel Dumped, counted, and sorted, every single move reported, with little thought of how we feel Statistics on a list somewhere, bought and sold, swapped for fare, fancied coming in, not goin’ Darkness runs away, a glow comes over the place, the eyes on mine see the ones on your face, riding the edge of a coin Tim Windisch 07/31/2023