Thursday, September 26, 2013

Rupture in Abstraction

There is a uniqueness in this tune
That only the past rhythm dictates
With even the discordant tones
Dictating a shift in movement

I go down to the very center
The pin point that is the crux of all
I feel the slightest of pinches
Disappearing into thick outer walls

The word loss is lost in this maze
Of branched out fragments whirling
Forming a pattern but hardly ever
Falling into place on the ground

The identity of the pinch
Belongs to traitorous intentions
Debilitating and scarring
But one with shallow roots

A soothing salve is out of reach
I avail of sand-dictated medication
Veering off into the tangent sunrise
Licking and struggling but moving