Friday, December 21, 2012

This Is the Knowing

Cheeks flush pomegranate red
upon embers - this is the knowing
that eventually everything ends badly.
Still, there’s a welcoming of the wet
taste of raspberry against my tongue.

Fingers lace saltwater gray
between damp - this is the knowing
that eventually everything turns tepid.
Still, there’s an easy sway to the talk
on the scaly brown boardwalk.

Lungs inhale thick sticky black
against rot - this is the knowing
that eventually everything is a suffocation.
Still, there’s a strange steady rhythm
to this sharing a blanket each night.

Minds race cold paisley and blue
upon ice - this is the knowing
that eventually everything grows gone.
Still, there’s unlocking my eyes in the dark
and seeing the absence of being unknown.



Shadow Road Quarterly - Winter 2012

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