The life we want might be a life worthy of sacrifice. By
a dying wolf, arising as a living lion, cursed beyond cure. To live each dusky
sky, to feel each rush, hung about, filled with doubts.
Finished early on, won later in season, baffled about
it.
Fireflies, cold memories, water baptism, filled with
fury—life made caricature, enchantment, & lies.
Brighter lights, a field day of abuses, a petty
apology.
To see it, to wait it out, many will see it.
To see a pattern, to churn literature, to beg softly
in prayer.
Let a cup pass.
The life we want might be a life worthy of sacrifice.
Such an inrush, fierce naturality, playing ghost rays.
Finished early on, won later in season, baffled about
it.
