By Ali Date: 2007 Feb 11 Comment on this Work [[2007.02.11.13.29.31312]] |
My own myths eradicate themselves, a violent exposition of a pale shade of regret; this single epiphany stalked my last resistance down, and I find that I am my own ghost, a shifting detail in the darkness, the silhouette of an escaping soul. But you hide more than I do, cleverly in each revision of your truth, in every slight, and slighted, accusation-- I exist, even against my better judgement. You seek the stature of Justice, while wearing The Hanged Man's smile: what do you know of forgiveness? I wonder, now, which incarnation will hold you, which shadow will reconstruct your face, your voice, and re-imagine every line I ever questioned. Yours was a spark of divinity, an elusive play of truth and art, bound by nothing as honest as a well-intentioned lie. Unaware of time--I still look toward the true north, toward the indeterminable tangle of memories and heart-written fabrications; against all realistic implications, I still wonder-- what was I, to you? |