Faith

Years evanesce
and it took me by surprise, this
buried memory of things
I heard you say upon a day
much less diminished.

We
knew each other for neither
asking nor acknowledging, but
for an unspoken assurance
of constancy,
but once,
this one act
eclipsed the peak of all prominence
my surroundings ever deemed I achieved,
you acknowledged the words I put in writing…
MY words, strung to mimic
the meanderings of a resentful mind
and the current of crumbling ideals and dissolving truths.

Not knowing what to expect and
least expecting what was received,
I walled the self aside,
not knowing what to show, no,
afraid of too much to show, the half-hearted manner
likely made it seem
that your recognition
didn’t amount to much…
in hindsight,
it’s likely how a hollow world
of chance, imbalance, and self-absorbed disinterest,
treated you,
your aspirations,
your talents, dreams,
your own victories, or whenever
you tried to set your best self forward
– all met with that deafening silence of inconsequence.

But you
repeated yourself again that day, then,
and now,
with an unfathomable distance between us,
with roles and circuits set in stone,
when I find it exhausting to believe in myself,
I remember
that you did.
So… here I arrive again,
repeating an unfailing orbit
at failing intervals.

Ones of Twos

It should
begin in twos:
your worlds – for you, upon
a time, until one
is gone.. and
it doesn’t hurt at all..!
as long
as you’ve forgotten
that there’s no longer
one completely familiar
place… you can always… at
any of all times, come ‘home’
to – to complete safety…
and then
it all collapses
and impales you sharper and deeper..!
each time – like drowning again
and again,
in colder
and colder currents
of blinding, pitch-black snow.

   

   

   
Thereafter,
the fullness of the world:
the last
of your first, in the one
remaining other… would,
on another unexceptional day,
disappear..

 

and
you’d find
you’re old overnight
and may have already
become one – yourself.

 

 

From Book IV