Just another WordPress.com site

“As we looked in, combed an image, and fought the flooding light”

“As we looked in, combed an image, and fought the flooding light”

When I had called,
once, myself, the call,
into (or) as it were,
as if, a part of the
room-
me, then, as well-
cracked, a few
inches-
apart- and then,
there was, as if born
from a beauty hard to
name,
a replica or stone
colored shimmer
of our indirect
remembering- in-case
cast- (a) gast

there white trim
hostile and yet softer
than every/any room,
it’s movement
when breeze hits-
the fabric, made by
(‘who knows’)
and not important any longer-

to have names for the culprit,
then lover, or is it- (all of it)
outside
(has to be) then going
into the thing,
our loss of control over the composing
civility-
brass, copper, instrumental-
slow, inconsistent,
anyway- always there,
enough now.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s