A scaffolding, ink unites

Irreparable facades

I will never be whole

Cracks being an essential conduit

Between my world and this one

I expand and diminish

A pedestrian terrene

Whose very essence is space

We exist because we are imperfect

Perception permits us being otherwise.

I will not die today or any other

Because I have lived, I am recycled

In forms and consequences

Too simple/complex to articulate


There was a time when I

Comprised all your memories

As you still do mine

But the world has touched you

Amplified the scope of survival

To include more than just necessity

Your obsession with me is not

As all encompassing as it was before

Though it remains the reason

For your collaboration

You have come away

With countless opinions

Which burden, at times, your spirit


I belong in all the places

That you have killed me

Love is a kind of death,

An emancipation,

An unlatching of masks

And fear-directed imperatives

It’s not easy being exposed

And those who believe relationships

Are meant to eradicate all hardship

Will never stay in one long enough

To understand commitment


When I do not speak

You hear me still

If only enough to inquire

When I do not move

You wait, offer, accompany, push, depart

And even when mistaken

I know deep down what you intended


You are always in my orbit

Even if at times

We contradict each other

There are no contractions

In this sentence

We do not combined

Equal one thought

We are infinite

Every book ever written

Appeals to my humanity

And there is a thread of us

In each of them

8 responses to “Conduit

  1. I belong in all the places
    That you have killed me
    Love is a kind of death,

    excellent section….i look at the her in this as the memory of love…and we try to distance ourselves from it in those moments of great pain, but only seem to cement its place…also really like the truth about those that seek love only to take the hardship…that never last, love is not easy….

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