Architect

Written by Jacob Ibrag

Stories so flawless or so she

preaches. She blows smoke and

we inhale it. It’s her world and we’re

the  static characters. Never changing,

mostly irrelevant. Fixed minds. Black and

white  imaginations. She’s the architect,

we’re the hallucinations. A collective

of blank pages that remain honest

till she presses her ink on us.

Photographer Unknown