A daring truth will follow you as you walk through the ice pack, ink black parking lot; and the moon is not with us yet, she had a glass too many, now she stumbles over the earth. Just like you, however she knows where home is.
Oh but you keep along, the pavement, the dirt, the gravel, the grass, "I will walk the whole earth," you say, "I will find my stage somewhere."
But by the way you perform, surely they will build you one of stone and gold! Erect a monument on which head I can stand! Surely I stand above god...
But it's not like that, and there are no ribbons for the brave, because we stand like that very day. The way your vertebrae are stacked, they might just topple like scripture and god.
They fall like your spirits and gaze to the platform. Somehow the inky black substance that follows your feet wants nothing more than to spite your existence. Just like passion, it laughs in your face with it's venom.
YOU ARE READING
Virgin Moon Phases
PoésieMy first official collection of poetry and prose written by yours truly, the brush fire witch. I take my writing very deeply to heart, and if you read it, I hope you will too.
