I moved like a moon
.
in predictable orbit, smashed
by meteors, space pebbles
meeting my surface with deep impact, when
there were dark oceans under my skin, unseen
single forms, coupled forms, and beds of
colourless weeds, but I steadied myself
on the cold shell of repetitive expectations –
dead valleys here, dead heights there.
Going through the hard crust, under, into
a thicker atmosphere, currents of heaviness,
breaking barriers better off broken.
Haunted by shapes that come close and rarely touch,
in this weighted environment, by-passing predator
tentacles and jaws by instinct alone, no journey-map,
stars or horizon to act as goal or inspiration, but
rolling
through cross-waves with creatures captured
by a dark density like
myself, shaded, loose at the extremities, compact
at the core, thriving on plateaus of deep pressure,
salty flavours all around – so far gone from walking
that legs leave, replaced by fins, and language is not
sound, but a full-body resonance – no delay
between appetite and attainment.
.
..
Copyright © 2014 by Allison Grayhurst
amazon.com/author/allisongrayhurst
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First published in “The Bitchin’ Kitsch”
http://www.talbot-heindl.com/aug2014
http://www.talbot-heindl.com/moon
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Click to access 20151023No_Raft_No_Ocean_by_Allison_Grayhurst.pdf
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http://scars.tv/cgi-bin/framesmain.pl?writers
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.You can listen to the poem by clicking below:
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