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07 July 2011

Independence Day

A flickering projection on a dissipating screen.
Once strong, distinct, pure.
Now vulnerable, alone, true.
Unthinking choices constructed of old assumptions
Throw an image at the sky.
With nothing to project upon
The night eats her illusion,
The shimmering stars empty and hollow.

Open the door, walk inside
The furnishings are absent
The pictures of her past life are shadows frozen in frames.
The walls are gone,
The beams are rotten.
Standing on the floor now standing on the earth.
Inside the house is the forest.

Charging blindly onward
The thorns tear at flesh.
Stepping carefully backward
The soft under-side of the leaf
Caresses the nape of her neck.

She turns about and the forest is gone.

Who is now is not who was,
She tells herself.
Confuses herself.
Scared she does not know
She weeps.

The tears are not.
She does not wipe them.
They roll off her face
Fall away to the earth.
Dry salt upon her lips.

The silence behind the tears
The quiet behind the eyes
Choicelessly watching the air pass over her wet
Now dry and flaky.
Her face falls away
Shedding skin, shedding body.
Molting in the moment.

The space around blurs
As she expands into it.
She touches and becomes,
Breathes and is.
Not doing what she did,
Only doing what she does.

Pale starlight fills her.
She fills the sky.


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