With my vision in one hand I went down. Culled in a hungry darkness. Written in words I don't understand. The hour pressing on my shoulders as the light I held began to dim.
Weighing every step. They are getting heavy.
I could turn the fire off. Stifle this cauldron and all its spells. By just making one choice. Someday I suspect I will. Become that girl again. That veiny leaf that shouts from its sidewalk grave.
Give me back my tree. Give me back what's mine.
Not willing to fall. Nor be replaced.
What is ugly now was so beautiful then. The miter of the broken heart squeezing itself into those narrow corners. Every angle obeying its scream.
It couldn't have been more right then.
It couldn't be more wrong since.
We decided the void was proof enough. Of whatever it was we were trying to be.
Saturday
9/02/2006 11:13:00 PM
veiny leaf that shouts from its sidewalk grave
That line is a gem -- conveying an image, a scene, in black-and-white silent film.
Every angle obeying its scream.
That line, too, I admire.
Thank you for sharing. ^_^ Cheers.
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