I, Sentinel - Poem by Chris McInnes
Byzantine thoughts bypass the thoughts of my fingers;
trickles down, afoot to my feet
slowly. Where and when I stop running the sky, opens:
she opens; her lustful distraction, in the open
I lie there in abundance, aware of all memories;
in the open, aware and hungry – I devour all fear.
My lissom voice –you, they; their
ignored my angst:
their bodies align, forming
asymmetrical lines; a union,
mapping and proscribing subtle
debasing thy fate… heightening
my next divide.
Metal coats thy tongue yet tastes sweet, so long: -
“Coax thy wings
across thy womb;
fast your knife-
I’ve built thy tomb;
bleed thou trappings
into my flesh:
now thou hath forsaken my sanction
under the pain, attest –digress! ”
Hitherto (yet beyond) slanderous shores –I bide the bite
inside my mouth.
Laughter precipitates past shoals of life
corrodes realities embrace.)
She folds colour into a blend of night:
each star shone afar, a glean of life
refracting fury beyond thy radial eyes;
glistening then shattering (a mirror) : -
a thousand shards with a thousand reflections
each revealing a thousand distractions…
Perched atop ancient relics
I, with glowing, crepuscular movements, reversed
the leeching epigenesis:
in the clasps of my own existence.
Now (oh, so sweet) lost within this unspoken grandeur
of complete disorientation; running blind,
laughing as with the wings of children…
past the buildings—
solemn, rusting arcs sit abreast my thoughts;
each marked with hidden tapestries—
along their sun dapped curvature
(warped from age)
stripping skin, flesh and muscle.
to the bone.
There I become infinite.
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