284

Something stunning occurs when the rhythm
snaps and pops, straightening out all the kinks
in your neck, all the links that you'd give him,
all the joy and pain, as your swelling shrinks:
They're looking for me, but I've gone nowhere
but within myself to rediscover
truth and faith as I now begin to stare
down the barrel of my life's revolver:
To spin away or return? Why not both?
He is you and you are me, endlessly.
Essentially. Grace is my form of truth,
and I am grateful for your courtesy:
But my spine aches; I must lift my own head;
even if it kills, time does raise the dead.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s