Thursday, November 8, 2012

An average failing, a breakdown. The sadness of grace seen fleetingly

How did I know what the sea was, let alone know how to dream of it? 
I had never seen it. 
The water I knew was near stagnant, 
it had no motion unless others waded in, 
pushed their bodies into its warmth.  
How did I know saltwater? 
The runoff of eyes.
But those small dark marks know no motion except down.  

The sea rose and carried me, 
my two-ton body, my rough self. 
My dried mud toes and caked mud tongue.  
I woke up, my equilibrium lost. I could not right myself.

It is hard to keep circling around the thing that happened and not say it. 
But it is also hard to say it. 
So, I circle some more until it tells itself. 
I can trust that it will. 

(More drafts of Land Beast)


Jenn/PaperPinwheel said...

oh my goodness-beautifulness!

Kate Wyer said...

Jenn, I am so happy to hear from you! I miss you.