When weather unlatches, tidal waves occur.
By soundless sounds, by broken electricity.
At the wrong line, pleading for entrance. I was motion, mystic un-excitement. Such as it came, such as it was stolen. Cadence of the Great Fire.
So indebted; so crystalized; by flicker of flaming waters; another baptism, an endless fluting.
And I thought too much—to see self, disappearing.
Everyone is worrying. If a glimpse, there’s concern. Such tender surprise, wandering galaxies, debating why a few care …
so much hunting, so great in gathering …
sheer silence, unspoken talkativeness.
I was understanding essence, as it protects inheritance.
I was without sentiments. The weather was harsh.
Faith took a hit.
