Open lakes are naked Their secrets, Rub like salt. How did one get here What seized the labour of hands. Do we deserve to know. Do we deserve to know the extent. Do we deserve to know the extent of our own subjugation. Knees meet dry earth. It's dry where we forget to water it Not that it needs water, Salt finds form In our negligence. Arid insincerity spoke of more.
II.) To follow
We left. We did not need to stay A dry sterile whisper kept us there With it's pleas for us to leave. The trust of invitation, Burnt holes in our wings. Untrust of warning, Had us leaving without our things I don't know which is better. A departure announced drew heed to soft cartilage. Unsharpened curfue split bone without piercing the skin. The expression of self. Callous wanderers knocked at no doors; to accept rejection.
III.) Reintegration of being
The want of murmurs in wanton misuse Kept us foraging for lust, For more, For inability in casualty. We waited for forest to arrive, Bare earth begged of no candour, Trees deny script. Unclenched hands greyed over context As purpose gave none where some was due.
IV.) What the stars offered
A quest unrelenting bends bark in fervour. Do we know why we left, Cold hands hock at swords needed to keep slight wrists in check. Or where we are going, Our aimless pacing finds direction in blind eyes and guided hearts. All the dust settled, buried in puddles like art. And the thunder was there The thunder never knelt But we listened To listen was the choice. A brief connection with the sky Through it's reproach It implored for something more, Only upon deaf ears. Was earth all there was to rain on? We thought, as the stars spat on us. Celestial offering in cleanse not spite.
V.) Love
Maybe that's why we left. To trascend our own ideas of love. Innocent foliage made the path harder to see, But easier to tread. Gentle arches hug mounds of green Like finger tips kissed by yonic flesh. To remember the conception in contact, Was to recognize our own affirmation And any word intended for the ears of the unknown. Blood is replaced where word is love.
VI.) Relation to self
To stay or leave was not the choice The distance from anything was illusory. The real choice, was acceptance of self. After the end of our disintegration, The dry heave, Leaving without hesitation; We are not without ourselves.