STARE
absorbed and pale, you
sit in front of a burning
mirror and ponder
see how you breathe
without body or voice, betrayed
by reflection
look how you've gnawed
and swallowed memories, how
the rust is so
bitter
you are travail,
the sun going down
someone has hung their gasps
in your eyes, and brushes
your hair with stony
silence
the evil around you is
the strangled brook, still
gurgling, the curling
of the shriveled leaf,
the fallen deer
for good there is but divine
indifference, the drowse
at noon, a cloud,
the soaring wren
we are the world.
and you are a benediction, a
destruction, gone mad
in the light
--Two-Bit Bard 2013
