beyond your sky, something is born. un-easily. it’s hard to start a poem, or a life, nothing-is resists.
genesis comes stiffly.
think sky. tints of shells and soft fruit need fruit and shells. and eyes. your eyes hold your sky.
whatever is forestalls possibility. an alloy of ink or blood denies another. by little the metal fixes. tiny occlusions grow to blindness of what could have been.
noiseless the sky gets busy. division swells a universe, a multi-verse. spills molten pearl that pools and separates, now words now arms, faces, places. i wait in a place you do not see. a million faces i’m not churn your sky looking for me. a chain reaction makes only more chain. chaos rubs her slattern hands.
sense structures, chases after, finds sky neither yours nor mine. nature paralysed, loath to admit this thing-that-is-not-now-itself.
to know this thing erect with intent: not angel, not demon.
kj24apr09
