Wednesday, December 27, 2017

Anti-Gravity

Art by Dan-Ah Kim


Once again . . .
The promise of sanctuary.
The insolence of perfectionism.

or, should I say
the sanctuary of perfectionism?

Whatever I name it,
it beckons.

This time, I decline the offer.
I no longer constrict myself.

no more armor.

Instead, I crack myself and 
open wide the mouth
of the wound.

what pulls me, now?

I am inclined towards
the quiet wonders
that sit before me
in silence and listen.

what do you want me to say?

In the space between us,
the softness glistens
like stardust.

I can cry, if I want. I can let
the image reflected in my eyes dissolve . . .
like millions of undulating raindrops.

But, I cannot lose that image.
Or, can I?

what pulls me?

Nothing is permanent.
Not this.
Not anything.

I sit it out. Let it pass.

let it go.

The heavens are here.
Stars. Stars. Everywhere.