Friday, March 31, 2017

Rest Dear Prince

The act of two humans staring into each other’s eyes
Three minutes
No speaking
Seated on yoga mats

Strangers focused exchanging on a quantum level
Ancient part in me looks for faith
As if there is something other than this mad darkness
Brown irises, white cornea, vision zooms down

Heat behind the lens wanting to close
Fire sizzling to shut the rambunctious automation 
The plastic frozen-pizza smiles press-microwave here
The claustrophobia of dollar-bill skin tightening

The blurred vision rooted to computer monitor pixels
Entering data click-clack keys yearning to power down
To type in the darkness, surfing poetry of blind possibility 
This woman seated across from me flat in mouth

The two of us moored in non-smiles unless risk emotive polyp
Spiting the anomaly of allowing one human to see the physical you
Vulnerable in that spectrum of concentration between sex and violence
Burrow inside the glare

Is there refuge?
As the guru asks us to picture who we love
Who do we give and receive love
Despite staring into this stranger, peering

Through a googolplex of foster children lifetime acquaintances
There is no face but the world
This divine detachment like a scalpel of wan heart
Segregated and connected in the paradox of humanitarianism

I want to love in window sill orchids
Delicate temperance strewn in bulb
I cannot picture anyone as if the proposition is so unimaginable
All I have left is pallid time whispering pages and ink

Close these eyes into coma as if these years be harbor
Sail through misty drown-yards collared in doubt’s chocker
Unsure who to make calling or prayer
Fallow liquid in burning sight 

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