In explanation, he was beautiful
A book binding soft unraveling
From wear
And all he spoke was handwritten-
Formulas I could trace but not comprehend
Gems not meant for me.
Even as I threaded the pearls
I knew no event or cause
To wear them round my neck
The surface
that unrepentant line
Between threads of knowledge
And skein
Do I weave hands dancing
Pull seaweed to slack
Or push whatever strays
Cut whatever stays?
Kick crayons cross cement
a stream of consciousness unrepentant
a mind as still as lake fire
The sound file corrupted into distortion
Reflections of a memory graying at its edge
He dips to drink
Pauses
The stillness
Stones on the battlement
And decides elsewhere
To refresh
The surface has mysteries
Its own flotsam and memories
In all my diving
I’ve broken the surface
With little care
Or thought to its consequence
The best way to stop someone wandering down a path is a post sign
Or a person bearing directions ill-conceived or conceived for ill
And none of this matters in the dark when the stars wipe away like so much glitter
Or you’re standing beside me
Nothing urges the sick traveller toward the forest like a well-worn path.
Salmon at spawn
I am weighted down
And vulnerable
A splay of fingers before the walnut cracker
Yet all eyes including mine
Are on Dawn
I’ve chosen the coal mine
The gray lowlight
The crevices no one wants to clean
I’ve chosen the lowered gaze
the reverence of mourning as my song
a dirge only raised at eventide
when hope is less
and wanting more
Still nodding
Boughs wither
Praise fades
Wisdom leaves its tidal rings
Bits of skin and pumice
A jitter to her eyes
Half-steps bounce her close and closer to the wall
Neck stretched for a guillotine that will never hit
She’s asking me
To calm her down
To sing her a new lullaby
For the teenaged mind
I strum a cough
An apology for not being good enough
I’ve got one hand on her skeleton
The other trying to feed it into her skin
Humming cracks into calm exterior
Child, I say,
Child, I sing
Child, I cry
And crying is that new lullaby
And crying is that new lullaby
The tears you dare not wipe away
Worry the wrinkles’ pathways
To pillow and chest and hands
These helpless to soulscream
Absorb what they can
AbyKittiwake 