Disjointed but
Still
somewhat content
Yet, there will exist in transit
A preferred belief, as seen
In combat
Together, added,
Wed, stayed, confined
In telling circle-prayer
Then out of confessing mouths
Of babes- a disconnection
Vocalized in whatever feeble attempt
To connect
These critical dots-
How it is now with
How it was then and no prefigurement
Can belie inside a forming mind
Still clasped tight
In fervency this held,
Preferred belief.
The smallness
Of the exclamation
And expression
still
sharp and wounding.
They could be mine,
For, already, elements
Show forth, in digging,
Of a familiar type
Of thaumaturgic thinking.
Already perfume
Of a false relief wafts
To tease
the air
With an invisible,
Presiding fragrance
And even
Unexpected
Delight
Cannot
Prove true outside
Of what any heart
Would naturally
Want.
Cannot presume
To mend the unrent determination
Of how it ought to be;
What was meant
To be. Later,
Even doubt found in chilling
Waves of truth,
Expositions
Of transgressions
Will be secondary to
The firm
dependence
On the poet-like impression
That to relive or re-survive
One’s childhood would or could
Be worthwhile- this, they
Will rock themselves
To sleep with. Now,
The whole is still
Hidden
By an, as of yet,
Unrealized
Reality
and though
the storm
Is behind the bend it seems
The answer
To the thirst
Of soul-drought.
Daring, this desire
In
fruitless romance-trifle,
dancing
Ever dangerously
With denial
But forspoken bone-bonds
Are never broken.
Yes, every boy
Is born with savior-complex
Builds a fort of this, presuming
Every girl in wait, singing
Calls from some faraway window
So transferring the need
The mother is transfigured
And this woman resumes
Her place on knees,
Releases, dies to self,
And thus receives.
