Softly She Said

 the supple stroke of time kept us wanting. beggars gnawing on the carcass of when. we spun our chains. we broke our teeth on the locks. desperately lapping on the puddles after the storm had passed. 

the truth in color. the past in black and white. their words a long series of small cuts. all the empty trials of flesh. void of justice. 

we spend our lives pressing that button. starving for change. 

destroyed to learn it does nothing. 

the distance accumulates. a sickness for which we have no cure. 

we are far. and we are near. shattered vessels leaking out all our shame. 

we are lost in the woods. without any maps. making love to the monsters that are hunting us.