once, you stood tall and bold
against the sky
and said, in all simplicity,
that we are forever stuck
misunderstanding the threads
that run through our lives.
i feverishly agreed, and
already could not make out
sand or sky, and
knew that i was no exemption,
but never to be
cursed or normal, either.

and the sky opened up,
and, steady we,
as we'd prayed for rain,
whispered of continental drift
and the draperies of unseen
seasons. but nobody knew or
knows, and aperture of eyelid
makes no difference. evidence
in broken glass, run smooth
again, that pain can turn out
pretty.

so, we outstood clashes & contrast
patterns in earlier lights, twenty-
twenty ways to unlearn the wrongs
burnt between our sinews. and i did
believe. and i did believe. but time
barrels back and forth, and belief
structures erode out, for better or
for worse, from under
our feet.