Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Creeping Equilibrium

The equilibrium is off -
like a cracked shell
the yolk split and divided

The small things need a voice,
a choice
such a spark
in something small
the higher we set them
the harder they fall.

Grandiosity, ambiguity
Lying behind eyes
mistaking want for depth
mistaking wiles
for smiles

I don't exist to serve
she said,
her voice tepid like lukewarm water
afraid to speak in a stream
instead in a hiss
a broken teapot
a hit or miss

I don't exist for you

I exist for this
for breath
for spark
for nature kiss

My talents mine
the small things
for me, I desire to be open
I don't need things
to make me be -
I don't need proof
that I can see
that you and me
we are not 'we'

we are not we

I exist for me
for small things everywhere
a quiet triumph
over loud, unsteady beats
inertia creeps

walking steadily
small and unnoticeable
against the grain.

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