Unknown Artist
Quiet.
Quiet, now.
This is our secret place.
I know where my home is.
Here, my formless shadow
stalks the periphery of the light.
And, the light…
Oh, how it strides
with arms arching
upwards and beyond!
It recognizes itself
amidst the grey embodiment
of my confusion.
We are together
on this quiet new day
that shifts us into a sand dune
of inevitable eventualities.
Our forms cling
to the shoulders of the sky,
aching of gravity.
I sing with open throat.
A pause rises between us, drawing
a scowl from your eyes,
a question from mine.
Your stark words blaze.
This is my secret place.
If you tread, tread gently, please.
I flatten myself against a ripple
of flesh and bone.
I cling, without sound.
The fire of captivity
soars through me.
I wait…
To be heard.
To be seen.
To be felt.
To be found.
