|
By Ali Date: 2007 Feb 16 Comment on this Work [[2007.02.16.08.37.31753]] |
|
A surfacing, like a hurricane out of still water-- a momentary disturbance that leaves pristine behind. The depths are not deep enough: they cannot swallow your escape, but what sacrifice do you offer, at the base of this alter, in ruins? Just because the semblance has fled, that doesn't mean hope has. Consider this your last reprieve, the final stepping stone for redemption, explanation, something a little more than just ache, or ignorance: how I can I forget if you have yet to tell? I make no promises. Your face is another's, and another's, shifting shape and meaning when the shadows grows darker-- I cannot feel the truth in your body, all at once warm and cold--split, with indecision. And I am still, in the recklessness, a heaven amid a wreck, impatient and graceful-- tell me, what is it that you expect? |