Words, My Wife

5 Dec

I am to bend with the eccentricity of my words
I am to become awake at their potential
I am to believe all of their implications and promises
I am to elate myself in their size and their implausibility
I eat their seeds and their rinds after devouring their hearts
I gaze longingly in love at their faces like the rapist as a child
I tear apart their skins and drink and soak myself inside their gut
I scream them louder than God’s thunder when I am forty feet tall
I say them over and over addicted to their sound and I am red in the face
I beg them to fill my vessel mind with their even laziest wanderings
I cry, and cry at my poor groping in my thoughtless darkness
I ask their forgiveness that I do not understand them all
or even half as many as I should
I’ve made my vow and will not break it for the most glorious Godchild
I’ve taken my stand here irrevocably on the earth for this life
I’ve married my universe’s only manmade daughter
I’ve made these generous aching words my wife

© 1990-2010, brent david fraser, all rights reserved

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