I could call this
Cold Dark Of A Secret Dawn
but why would I?
Why is a hard word
one of the petrified order
that wrap themselves around us
and we ask them what's with this and
that when cornered they conveniently forget
the answer then forget to forget and
slowly losing back all but the surface
they answer in a glimpse or a shiver
I am trying in this division in this
moment-less space that leaves and stays
to say here as far as it's gotten to divinity
(who gets to what they want every time?)
to say the same secret I hope you have
but different and that there is that to
love even more than us
And I treat what I don't know here
with the hope of starting another
part of this beginning that always is
uncertain to go as far as to say
I've felt it and know it to be good
though air does not yet exist
this love still sticks beneath
my nails and I hope it's more
than just me
..
