| Subject: Once Disconnected |
Author:
09-25-99
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 23:02:11 10/20/99 Wed
Once Disconnected
It was a mindless swim in the direction of no choices.
There was fusion in the dark, where a grand obelisk
ebbed and enticed from a bed of appropriate time.
He would have left her there, wondering or sleeping
or staring at the ceiling, her arms protective
of the instant that gave you your name.
To pass the growing time, she would have taken care
and prepared to plan for gathered curtains, for washing
all the printed sheets and arranging your things in a drawer.
When you were seven, perhaps she recalled your anonymous
contentment and hoarded stories to be told, of how your ears
stuck out or the ways that consonants overcame you.
But soon after, there should have been the day
when she looked down at your growing face,
fell into your mind, and knew.
You would have been ten, or fourteen, or twenty
when truth should have come like lightning from clouds,
like thieves in the night and prayers in dead of the winter:
like truth in the eyes that you are, but never were, hers,
once disconnected, to keep.
~JB~
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 