-


...i hear it,
even when it makes no sound.
it is so deeply hollow,
even Empty echoes 'round.

(and i'm so sure of all of this
because i hear it now.)



it is a disembodied pleading—
a guttural, deep shrieking. mercy
calls you from your being
as it all becomes too much.
i recall i, cold and lifeless,
watched (beside myself, despite this)
as i clumsily engaged in an
attempt to wake you up.



enough time dissociated,
we begin to wonder when
exactly, where exactly:
how does this all end?

ain't it so hard to find sometimes

-
one day the sun will blink out
and i won't be there.


:
my god is right now.
my hell is control.
my joy is devotion
and my grief is an absence;
maybe the hands of a clock,
quickly ticking
and unwilling to repeat itself.

;
my purpose is god,
desire is hell,
my love is my joy,
and that sun blinking out
without me is my grief.

-

imagine my surprise to see
a golden road, unfold, before me

where no path had been,
less had it leapt

with my every once-ashamed
and trepidatious
baby-step.



there are trees in the distance.


country-wide on either side.



and it's suddenly so bright? I adjust to the light,
blues and greens, to be sure; that is,
if I could see,
for the tears that could, might
source a new, fertile stream.


so I will start it, crawling;
grateful.
and I will take off running,
soon.

to wonder is simple and human and fine;
but it is to relinquish control that’s divine.

-

i am tinder, i am kindling:

i'll hold your fire
if you've got a match
with naught but a couple of strings attached
(also flammable)


i am quick and light and airy,
take on more than i can carry.


you, like reliable firewood:
must be.
you'll have to be sturdy,
or you will not trust me
that i could inspire,
for all to admire,
a fire: to light up the dark.

and though i have no doubt
you don't need my help,
perhaps it's not something
you want by yourself...


so imagine.
a night
with the dew fallen down.
if your light is low, too
while no one is around
then remember your kindling,
— i could warm you up.
i will give you some more
if at first's not enough.
if you'd want, we'd be roaring,
a knowing so well;
we'd reach up to touch heaven,
the envy of hell.
i give myself freely,
keep you blazing on
until sparks in the air
become ashes at dawn.


ah, we could rest then.
(get a good breakfast in.
cannot wait but i will—
burn all over again.)