About
i am the misstress,I have no patience for your fairy tales
Bogus wormholes
Supposed exits or invented terrors that lie beyond
Plain common sense—
I feel it, I insist,
Some omniscient eye
Haunting our humble passage.
The sky expands, the trees push a deft breeze out—
His skin a thin veneer
Dissolving
This life -- such evasive bits of twirling colored light
his reason melting just enough
he eats the hum of bees, the rattle of dragonfly wings
The thick slice of untampered sun—
The spider in its tapestry
Reads the changes
He lacks the sense to digest—
A distant voice resurrects
This jagged, piecemeal world
Into expedient forms—
Parcels of tolerable truth
Oases of salvation
Sinkholes of silent hope,
he traced the hard won lines
Of my trusting face,
The memories suffered and embraced
Of love's story,
my beguiling transformations
Skimming like swallows past his heart—
Mere transitory scintillations
Of the soft immaterial centre
He cannot hold.
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