I chose to curl into the arms of a C, to swing it into the sky feet first and smiling with wind in its teeth, as if it were the two hands of the father who placed it in between the B and D, pushing the boundaries of infinity into obscurity, while grinning feverishly
He said: u know they placed between our sea a small country who’s caverns n cravasses we must cross, whose languages we must merge into a bridge of synonyms, words that speak the language of words whose very words have yet to assign a spokesperson to speak for them, stuck in the limbo of understanding, in fact, underneath the word understanding, bent over, beneath, and underneath and below every syllable silent n hushed its fist in an effort to be heard, furiously banging
U have me searching for doors in my mind
And later, when the pitch is perfectly deep n dark and what only surrounds us is song and spark, we will break mirrors
Sometimes I bet the tree makes a fist and punches the sky
Sometimes to make a pretty picture u have to summons the emotion. For this one I thought of a junky I love, his futile existence, the mere days, months, or years he may have left before he succeeds at his mission, the helpless arms my pointless love has grown for him, knowing fully they can never grow hands, how the more our people dismiss him, and tell me to write him off, the more I turn around n offer to him care, the more the love feels like a dare n the less of me with them I wish to share, It may satisfy u to see this self-imposed emotion rise to the surface of my skin, but that belies the truth of the mess the heart beneath is in. What else I keep hidden will never be uttered or written. The mind is safeguarding the secret war in silence, and well, that is more than a problem…
I felt misrepresented n betrayed, even my shadow was prettier than me….