Friday, October 10, 2014
Hawkeye (Not What You Think)
Gold, frankincense, myrrh, and the miles I placed at your feet.
All these things given in the name of hope.
A second in your time, a millennia in mine.
I am now on the other side a continent away.
Chipping away at a life more lost than the last.
The blood that is not there feels warm at my ankles.
Can I walk through that wall? I don't know, til I try.
If I thrust these shears into my thigh will I feel better?
Can I somehow balance it all out?
You're not there, but you are there.
Chasing my thoughts between the alien and surreal.
I think you might have been real.
I think you could have been more at ease with that fact.
It doesn't matter.
Woodland spires stretch above, as I read Hawkeye with a tiny black dog.
This is me now.
I'm here.