At times we stop, like silent wolves,
Racing left hemispheres into right,
heart beats sitting fragile cowering cowering,
Between what is said,
what we could.
I look to the right,
Telling myself to just
open and form,
Lace what is
On edge, my solar explosions,
To spirits.
I am nothing in darkness,
armed, flat, solid, aimless
birthing myself to silence
Of drum bursting shadows
Reaching to crystals
Holding tightly, closing palm, the core.
No comments:
Post a Comment