closure
the
bar is closing
unpredictable
elision
and
safe predicated
the
precise incision
the
incurable insufficiency
of
being, the horrid wait
of
freedom, no locus
where
everything desired is
and no
getting there; thus
nothing
to forgive
this
is
this
grows close to the grass,
earth
and absence
wherever
“i” has been
hiding
from the sky
where
the dead sleep
their
unreason, graves
and
maybe, nothing to need
or be
we are
sleeping here,
mourning
and memory,
some
potent hopeless
osmosis,
heaven to be
peregrine
there
is nothing to stop us
the
peregrine madmen
wandering
our disconsolate
desire
through night;
the
broken socius
the
vulva invulnerable
and
the need we never knew,
falling
like autumn leaves,
like
meanings unneeded;
there
is nothing left to bless
us,
nothing we need to be
everything
but free;
nothing
to believe
and
everything to be
No comments:
Post a Comment