We have a way of constantly falling
in love, out of love, off of cliffs, into
the great abyss. We crave the great
ebony nothing like a drug, shrug our
shoulders at the slight pauses, the
subordinate clauses, the effects and
causes of synergy and silence. Give
us curve of cul-de-sac, the cracking
open of a new vein. The stain and spill
and flow of a tributary undammed. Will
we find ourselves in these ending
places? Shuffle your feet to the end
of the darkest street. Feel the curb
find its way into your skin. Begin
the knowing of breaking bricks,
scattering straw and sticks to
……………make room for breath.
Prompted by Poetic Asides April PAD Challenge, day 30.
Wow–super strong end, especially–very good advice. Thanks. k.
I REALLY want you to record this. Please???