December 22, 2008

time in chase

in a momentary distraction
you draw a knife
textured with blood
but I turn away, knowing the end
never again use it to paint cryptic words
that wound my mind.
wisdom calls from the window of a distant memory
waiting yet already finished
growing to be planted
here in the midst of uncertainty
resistance clings to me like the cold of the outdoors between my toes

yet simply because
surrender is too small to fit around
the corners that change with each tired day
or is it found somewhere in waiting,
in the center of the broken dream
is it hiding in the silence of sleep?
breathe on me a defense I do not know
and with that it becomes seen

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