Now you move
across pools of liquified despair
black ink that rears up
and splashes indiscretion
across the bow of your soul
each slosh a specter
of a ghost you’ve left behind
returned
in a tumult of wind so strong
it churns the ocean to its bottom
and strips away your skin and flesh
leaving your bones exposed
and you with nothing
but that white spot on the horizon
the one you look to
when the harpies call
with their sweet bird song
and the promise of safety
if only you’d veer
just slightly from the path
that in and of itself
moves.
- – matt at shadow of iris
now_you_move
[Inspired by the work of Leo Plaw]
