THRENODY REPRISE
moved out for no reason. didn't change any place
It's no better.
& the dreams
uprooted the ancient tree rotten
no strength required
What you must accept, fully
A man with the black wool high up the neck for protecting the throat.
(E)motional
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I had left the temple waterless and frozen fatigued and peeling.
On the edge of no return
at least that's the case
this winter solstice thousand two.
how many years later?
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It's cold outside
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Golden light shadows the face
On wall (through blinds, glass window, everywhere)
"Schwarze Milch
der Frühe"
crisis doesn't lie
lost daylight (anger doesn't see the many deaths)
uprising into her burial zone
No . . . ten footsteps . . . to the left
future nights collapse (I had created more loss)
Beautiful weightless snow falls down.
The first utterance must be "Gone".
Thoughts, wrote Nietzsche, are shadows of our feelings: always darker, emptier, and simpler than these. And the written word, it strikes me, is but a shadow of our thoughts. 
