Sep 2018
you have taken
me to these sunken hills
to stare at the cold
stone bunker
leaning against the dawn.
you have bruised me
in faraway places: my peripheral
vision was never
as finely attuned.
askew with your thoughts—
leaning against my shoulder,
leaning against the dawn.
me to these sunken hills
to stare at the cold
stone bunker
leaning against the dawn.
you have bruised me
in faraway places: my peripheral
vision was never
as finely attuned.
askew with your thoughts—
leaning against my shoulder,
leaning against the dawn.
Here's a brief analysis of my own work...
We depend on that which is faraway—and we become cold for the wanting of it.
While you are physically "leaning against my shoulder", you feel to be leaning against the "dawn": leaning against something remote and faraway. That's what's hindering our relationship; we've lost our closeness.
That's why the hills are "sunken". That's why it's a "bunker", not a cottage or cabin.
Hence my injuries. Hence my lack of "peripheral vision": I could never quite make out what you were reaching for.
We depend on that which is faraway—and we become cold for the wanting of it.
While you are physically "leaning against my shoulder", you feel to be leaning against the "dawn": leaning against something remote and faraway. That's what's hindering our relationship; we've lost our closeness.
That's why the hills are "sunken". That's why it's a "bunker", not a cottage or cabin.
Hence my injuries. Hence my lack of "peripheral vision": I could never quite make out what you were reaching for.
