The claws in the
sense, the apparition of purpose
To every day along
this path lifting meaning like evaporation
The consideration
of God, left, returned, left, returned
Praying to see God
in your sentiment
As soon as I come
to you with him, I see the distance
Between your ship
and the dock, the bounty of your body
Out in the waves
with your heart locked in that chest
I am wilting into
a droplet draining liquid courage
The idea of love,
of God, of purpose, of meaning
Feel like
redundant self-flagellation without the high
The bruises of
attempting to conquer the demons of distancing myself
From all those
moving boxes, the dusty, the permanent markers
Folding, taped and
instructions on what is inside
All lie in time as
repacked and resent to oscillating storage houses
I hear your voice
like a beacon of what was God
And I feel the
world burning, ashes in my fingernails
Clawing for a
scrap-paper response as if you understood
What love felt
like enough to explain what was worth salvaging
The rainbows feel
like coffin nails and the blue sky like dirt
Staring out into
turning into a place I have already been
Thinking you were
the answer and attempting to exit on my own
The meditation,
the release, the shackles, the beast
Every silence
feels like a fold that makes respiration that bit tighter
Pondering what the
cessation of clock ticking brings
Did I lose
everything; did I die in denial of devouring the fear
Too much, too
full, where from here and how long
Help me believe
like a fairy tale that I did not have to be
So damn closed and
confused; why not translate the gray?
Hoping you will
want to talk to me again one day
Knowing the back
and forth and clarity and blurred lines
Of who you are and
what we could ever be
Dying inside with
destiny, God, and every clarity I ever had on love
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