devotional, pt. 1

April 3, 2017

a heavy-eyed rainfall,
i sit attendant to the shatter of
water.

a quickened, liquid-silver-generous
stumble forward
and back.

a cold and antiquated window:
i pray it does not swallow my peripheral
as i swallow my pride.

i breathe and dream
(not at the same time)
and spit out the cold, watery air
left over from my drowning.

names forgotten, wings forgotten.
she reaches and i watch her,
my sweet mirror,
as she grasps feathers with her fingers,

an extension altogether
ascending
and condemning.






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