In the beginning there was…
i can’t imagine
asking the sea to accept me
as it’s kin
to reach out and embrace me
like the framed blackness
that lies before my
baptized eyes
as I peep through this
window of smoked pain
watching finales exchange
cold and ashy hands
that are wrinkled like
the breath that is vapor
like exhaust
from rattling machinations
or maybe even
emissions
from virgin serpents
…even eternity
had to start
somewhere.
The Muse Minefield 