I Wonder If You Always Tell The Truth

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And So It Goes

The clockwork of my beating breast has failed,

The hands of time are sharpening their swords,

While fiction’s father tempts me to his hordes

And to his wheel my wrists and feet are nailed.


Unconscious of the process of recall

I speak an oath verbatim from your tongue,

A curse not heard this side of Jacob’s rung.

To make the leap a man must take the fall.


Such fury, though germane, was poorly aimed,

This half-cocked rage was only half my sin;

A promise broken from the outside in

Is no more wrong, no less a blessing maimed.


I dreamed a final dream of you with wings,

Out there beyond the range of mouth or hand,

No word, no touch, no sight of where you land.

Does love deserve the loss of all these things?


Here lies my faith in you, a tomb to share.

With sinew stretched and muscle at full might

My blood was all in vain to take that flight.

My body’s bound and grounded by this prayer.