April 2017
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ewection win
evewyday now
is Apwil Fools
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my child's eyes
bursting at the seams
with silence
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fleeting light
this rosetta stone
of contact
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metro train
all heads bowed before
separate screens
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night prayer
a whisper of moths
without light
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sleeper bus
my anima held
in suspense
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navigating
the tip of an iceberg
another
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white noise . . .
my timeline converges
in ever-now
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unfurl within me
fern-scrolls of prophecy
chanting light
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fetid with life
beauty festers with
retracted claws
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such vision
almost the moon
in absence
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first light skating a razor edge
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dying echo
my spirit slipstreams
his wake
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half a moon
night came and went:
the fourth day
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blear-blind . . .
rain-dropping sun
smears the text
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bones in me
flesh-filled
for presence
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deepening night . . .
my I wretch-wrestling with
(my God!) my God
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birth-breath
year after year
deeper yet
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dying day . . .
libraries of words
shed their flesh
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"tree" . . .
the one two inches
behind your eyes