Friday, April 19, 2013

011: ever in silence


it has the rhythm of a waltz, the contemplativeness of a corner-of-a-wood-cabin-far-from the-fireplace solitude late at night, the open exertion of a field under plane-strung sky.

it is speaking things—I want to write them down, for you, but—there are no words in these hollow places where words were born to go. maybe once, there were words set on these notes like artifacts of queendom. but they were wrested away, leaving vacancy, lightning, hollow unansweredness, ten times the power, never-forget-this plenitude.

a wall knifes into my back and I am full / empty, fearless / afraid, scarred, perfect, whole.

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