@d-pend /
Questioning, sustaining:
fractal spilled diffractions —
past the furthest recourse
for freedoms disassumed.
In one moment, aching —
— time betrays itself.
And I then
float past
the holding cell of ages:
seen from any angle,
periphery of mages
who colors all eschew.
...
In terms of turnèd pages,
creased and sorrow-weathered
prescribing pale pronouncements
for priests grown paler still
in search of vague distinctions,
in hope of great tomorrows
my vision grown e'er-darker,
my heart slow-ossified.
Periphery of stillness:
make good your vicious promise,
draw close the sanguine yearning
of ev'ry stricken heart.
words and images by @d-pend
created for HIVE on Nov. 15, 2020.
