wired—by—numbers

the glow of Your laughter
wings my face as I chase,
chase.
I chase my hand in golden brown oceans;
held by the Tide, I
float;

weightless

and warm.
Peace;
Her strident silence,
violent,
She thaws, into the
muted,
incandescent


distance,
allowing
Nothing—and everything—to return;
viperous void,
He gives me
truth in a sea of
lies.
His words decline,
dilatorily,
down

my face,


“It’s



time.”




Turbulent voices,
angry
Currents whisper
to Torrents,
who sing so surely, viciously—
capriciously
calm;
a Storm, deaf with graceful arrogance,
stabs
with
Her
rod of Light; perfectly rhymed,
Your voice, alarming,
unclothed—
as I am—naked;
I clutch, crying, at Your brown skin,
You who marked
the end.

Discarded.
Pushed out, into the blindless chaos,
from the warmth I was once held;
a grave Innocence—
I believed.

Lies.

I learned,
to call you;

Mother.