Glow

I hold Creation by the wick. A natural tendency to deceive. I breathe past a molecule and can’t deceiver why.  It is a creed on the side of car. In blue and green. A tag, a line, a rhyme, a thought.  A moment in the haste for existence. For permanence. How wonderful the colors seem. When passing at such a high speed. They linger in the air, like a glow stick at it’s prime.  In shapes imbuing the darkness with green creed of forgiveness.