Wordle #146 “March 13th, 2017″

Week 146.png

We sit adjacent
under a canopy of stars
pondering our own irreversible margins.
Pear-shaped and diminished
I simmer in the realization
that I exist only as a concept.

Ashen clouds bleed and stray
what once passed for clarity
yields to oversight and exposure.
We hold each other until
there is nothing left to surrender
only the implacable sense of wytai.

I chew my nails flush.
More lodestone than millstone
I keep coming back
to the moment of infestation.
You are the one to harm, the elect.

The moonlight billows and growls.
We stand naked hips bracketed,
hearts unlaced and recall with affection
what it is to be wholly/holy human.

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