She lifts her eyes from the coiled core of the knotted finger trap
Casts her gaze across the filament of the faded lightning map
Wraps a thought in filigree spores of all her future ghosts
And breaths a sigh concealing causes and heavy heartbreak hosts
Where secret speed limit signs and restricted breathing lies
Between the blue iris lensed apertures of upward casting eyes
She knows the future lacks the haunting howling of the past
Leaves the skins of shed lives for predators their spells to cast
Upon the brows once pearly knitted now expectantly arched
On baited hooks past which the lines of martyrs marched
Anticipating nothing lest the future disperses hopes like dust
Leaving tongues untied and ears of corner lovers loitering distrust
For who is she to cast these pearls opaque with peppered pain
Before the lines of faceless foils and sheets of seasoned rain
She lifts her face to face the coming day unprepared
For all the blows and grey rainbows
For all the smiles and warm reptiles
For every note uncomposed
For every king deposed
For every insect mind
and every deal declined
Decomposed
Indisposed
On pages bled unread for lines of text unrhymed
She raises her hand to stem the tide of image streaming
Lunar candela eyelids flutter incandescent dreaming
As if her smile could raise her spirit gleaming
Above the peaks of all her dark nocturnal scheming
To leave her hanging hopeless stripped and screaming
Alone upon the shore where wavelengths stretch all meaning
Attributed by her faith or empty academic towers leaning
The future knows not its name when shouted into canyon’s echo
The past its weight in gold won’t even entertain the thought of fingers let go
So she closes eyes on all she cannot control or feign understanding pretence
And marks the page where last the words she read made perfect sense
January 2009
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