Links

Life has the jaws of a riddle.

I know there's a link between the cold touch of morning porcelain and the wan faces of train commuters; the glass in the bark mulch and the endless constellations of gravel; the anxious thrall of my working hours and the television I need to sleep.

But the right metaphor for this weird parade is too large for me

The Sphinxes gambit hasn't changed- ‘Answer, or be forgotten.’ I’m old enough to know History will forget me. My nameless bones will roll beneath the monster’s paws.

In silence, my dust will sing through the trees, my blood will seep through the soil in countless dark branches. My chest will be the ocean, my thoughts the craze of clouds.

This beauty is lost in me. I live like a forest vandal, scratching away with my knife. I’m too proud this body, this childhood, this fiction of a life. I want to carve my face into the heart of everyone I meet.