Pages

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

haibun || Sheila E. Murphy

A New Vocabulary

When angles at the edge begin to have defined, maybe the fastening renders less hurt. With prongs held down, the view of sky grows sharply into clarity. As if the adjectives no longer wrinkled, merely shimmer. If a recipe for softness were included in a definition, I would want to dream a new vocabulary. Just lie there and resist the memory of friction that the waves of tone changed to a self. And only in relation could one recognize a pulse as real as Braille when need eclipses mild discretion. What is in the body's budget? Shields, spears, coat of mail? I think the autumn makes for measures of central relaxation with the formula still hidden. And if I were to approach you with a thought? Could you make something palpable enough to hold the wind in check? Are diamonds like that? Is salt water bracing to the unprotected skin? More than any maturation process, I relive old ways of learning harm. As though a quota was insisted into lifelong being. Who am I apart from how unfriendly fire holds sway? Whatever other entities are for, we find a way to like ourselves among them. As though center field were still a work in progress we declared we had been proud of once we had arrived in life. Descent amazes with its gravity still capable of pummeling acceptance into powder. How is earth made into use? Perhaps in its reputed mirroring through matte finish the scruff quotient of sky.

Ad infinitum presence of mind, the body notwithstanding, work and stretch in play

No comments:

Post a Comment