There is something I need to say but I simply cannot seem to do more than cross out not the way to say, how to phrase a blind beacon, a muted murmur translated subject, object
to say exactly
everything together
by letters as one
Force what it is, stab at it with a pen, draw it out like language, hone out the sharpest point, push it forward like blowing your nose, or even better sneeze it
when it feels like sex
you will know you nailed it
and that is worth it
freely, better than giving up or saying shoulda, or mistaking desire for a dream and doing what one shoulda-for some one else's cause, affecting none, be cause was lost on you, charitable lending of your ear listens to the echo for future gains of generations, all ways
that is your legacy
shining star in flight
will fall silently
orchestrated in a way that you listen to every wrinkle in time waiting for your name, miss taken with the world, waiting on a line.
Image by Mikalojus Konstantinas Čiurlionis (1875-1911) SILENCE [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Poem form Haibun experiment.
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