If I dared write
what’s in my heart,
what’s on my mind,
what drives me on,
I’d attract ants,
and bring bees
to the smell...
I see you, not as words —
not a single quote
or chapter — but as
an unfolding story.
And I love reading the story
that you are —...
"I want to be a writer…"
she said, her solemn
six year old eyes
trained upon the
rumpled by life writer.
"But you can do...
Fractals in the pathos
True religion fractured
The wisest men grey most
And with the wingspan of some pterodactyl
We’re too afraid to stay...
There was a perfect stillness in the air,
The air was hot, and solid,
Despite the faint breeze, it did not move,
The water, painted with the faintest ripples,
Caused by the near liquid fish that churned it,
Was solid and non moving.
And though birds chirped,
Though the insects carried their buisness out,
All around there was that perfect stillness,
Like the last patch of unmoving water,
Beset on all sides by incoming ripples.
It was in that perfect stillness that she appeared,
She was incredibly beautiful, in her ordinariness,
She looked human, but was beyond that,
She moved, but did not cause ripples,
And stood in front of this scene of stillness,
And she began to reflect,
The a clear pool of unmoving water,
Though I did but glance in her only a second,
I saw ever aspect of my being reflected in her,
And was so enraptured by her inhuman grace,
That I thought I must know her,
But when I even considered to draw near,
The ripple of me passed through,
And before I could react,
The image of her was gone,
The girl in the stillness,
The impossible human made of still waters,