You didn't surprise me, you upset me
My defenses laid bare at your assault
I have never ached so deep for someone's touch
The jagged edge of my merciless memory festers
Wallowing.
My fingertips sore from constant busy work
I'd rather be quiet and useful
Than obvious and numb
A fine line between the two
Raw. Undone.
I scream until my throat gives out
Better to focus on that pain
For your loss has left me gasping for air
Searching violently for the unraveling end
I just thought we were stronger than that
On my knees before you
Confessing all my sins
Unhinged.

The Wind is fickle
A mighty blowhard so fierce
A soft, puny puff

I know
before I lay me down to sleep
that I pray to my Lord
with clouds of doubts
Dark within my room at night
I lie ready
to close my eyes to
everything above
and about me

But as I stare up
in my bed
I know there is a God
beyond that ceiling barrier
I know there is a God
transcending these plaster walls
I know.....
I know

Snakes strike with venom
Scorpions can be killers
Human stings are worse

Mother's ache in birth
Baby fears brand new world
Neither free from pain

If you care:
My
life is a little
box
and I dreamt of a
little box. The more I watched the less it
was. In
a solid white something. Lamps. A
table. Clothes. Proper punctuation and
capitalization. Unthinkable hopes
and blasphemous suppositions. Some force
that I can’t call God, just my sick
dream-logic, blew it to ashes. My world-cube. My mirrors.
My books. My awards and certificates and
All my precious stanzas. Cinders and pronunciation alone remained.
At this, I
smiled and
shook my soul
with the Prophet. My own music burst out
before me like mathematics
(My very breath guided by an
infinitely ascetic
sweep) and like oil paint (in
a world that glows
like neon and
breathes out empty
space) and I awoke from whiteness. I fold
myself into four
like the
secret of flight. But you don’t care.