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There is an ache in my shoulders from breaking trees. The muscles pulled tight from the rise and fall. My legs still shakey with the energy of last nights tremblings. And all this time I was a ghost, haunting familiar terrain, where I shouldn't have been. In sleep, I have been aware of a warm, black presence that is in my heart but that I am only given seconds to caress. Death and sleep being so similar that sometimes the threshold blurs and you can float back and forth and find a true love dwelling there.
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What would happen to a flower, if it chose not to bloom? To not uncurl and show it's center, the truest reflection of the sun. How would it dance with the breeze, a shy partner hiding itself in the corner of the room, hoping it's singular magnificence goes unnoticed? A subtle shift is all it needs to open up and become that living thing it was meant to be, a golden heart at the center of a stem.
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A Three Lined Score
1. The sun hits it's zenith and instead of continuing West, returns East.
2. There is a zoo and it is on fire.
3. A hummingbird sipping nectar from a flower, freezes and falls dead.
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A Sea Wall That Longs to Break
1) Why does it want to break?
2) What will happen when it breaks?
3) How will the breaking impact it's surroundings?
4) What will the wall be after it breaks and is no longer a wall?
5) What function will it serve in it's new form?
6) Will it miss being a wall?
7) Does it understand that once it isn't a wall, it can never be the same wall again?
8) Do any of these questions even matter to the wall?
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