“The Text”

Blue Truth

“The Text”

The text is oblique; transience,
The setting; morning moments strive
To goad the abyss or dive
For balance in the languid silence
Of high noon’s bleached and satellite hours
To the edge of obscure drifting
From the point of consciousness, sifting
The ashes of that passing evening’s fire.
Comes the occasion, the premise, the stunning clue
And nothing stops the process save the circumstantial fingers
Of the stage manager, and what light lingers,
Resolves, extinguishes itself in seconds, minutes: the view
Stupendous in the void. To kiss a memory and leave it on the stage
Transcends the loss, the pain, the striking of the set, the turning of the page.

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One response to ““The Text”

  1. This one casts a certain spell that I like… it’s almost like a delicate drawing. Ideas, in articulated language, often seem to make the near impossible seem suddenly in reach; “to kiss a memory and leave it on the stage”… how often I’ve kissed a memory and walked away, patting myself on the back for transcendent detachment, only to take a sharp breath weeks later and find myself stoking the memory anew just to taste again that flavor of “identification”. Letting go is the Work of a lifetime!

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