(Through) Me You Him (Soon)
Blair O. Steels
So woven to time, why won't
The wind howl its cry
--I've sat still, for long enough!
The stuff of my heart won't combust.
Thraveling with the words of your tongue
Speak to me slow
Now, with gravity tilting, now.
"..and if I stretched my arms wider than i thought, stretching them to hold you, but they broke, then i would say hi, just explaning the crumbling villages...
but you (like me) have seen these and barbecued hearts just hung up like ornaments; we're so sick of the dried blood we pick off.
O love, couldn't we cast away in the half-lit forest? So evey-watering is the moonlight, and once wiped off, we smear into small-sight. Underneath this microscope...God might be watching."
--From The November Diaries