Parallax
These apparitions - so many faces,
still too many eyes watching you
become. Do you recognize me, at last?
The aperture slips -
trailing some translucent incantations
down the corridor:
blue retrieves blue -
Misaligned,
my second eyes
fixate on the sidelong blur:
Prophecies return, unsynced;
falling into
forms, truer than truth,
you have long folded
then rended across time.
water forgets water -
Recognize me?
Scentless snow rests
in some forking garden
no wrong path.
Kept mistaking the afterimages
pinned across the cosmos like glances
waiting
for a signal,
or a delay,
in un-mistaking yourself -
These apparitions - so many faces,
still too many eyes watching you
become.
Do you recognize me, at last?
Always awake,
as a bullet hole
on the door shoots a tiny sun -
silverline still intact. But
God stays dark. Repeating
the same stories, but
never the same nights.
You may return now, wearing another face.
Look once
into the lucent ash on ocean silk
every cloud is put to the grave.
When the eclipse didn’t feel imminent -
(if ever)
before the leap of the cast
before we turned to unforming foam
Now - leap. This time.
A thin film of ice,
a breath of negative
archives the unraveling blue -
questions the sea keeps
unsaid, unmaking some necessity.
All is as pure as the beginning. But was it ever
the beginning?
It begins, unthinking:
turning every corner
of pretending ease, I run into myself
in facing mirrors, both ends stretching -
a corridor!
you almost knew -
clouds resurrect clouds -
you almost knew.
blue retrieves blue -