Parallax
These apparitions - so many faces,
still too many eyes watching you
become. Do you recognize me, at last?
The aperture slips -
trailing 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?
Awake always,
as a bullet hole
on the door shoots a tiny sun -
silverline intact. But
God stays dark. Repeating
the same stories, but
never the same nights.
You 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.
A film of ice,
a breath of negative
archives the unraveling blue -
questions the sea keeps
unsaid, unmaking some necessity.
All is 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 -
blue retrieves blue -