Wednesday, October 12, 2011


the story of christian

so I picked up my camping gear and we headed up into the west
where the mountains climb higher than the feet of men
where only bird dare touch but never live

this has come with the challenge of fluids
from the shattering of teeth 
from the clank of bone
from the red letter blood left upon my sheets

that was a poem for my sister to find and for my lover still
and she thought it was of her natural body
the kind that is wept in the mourn of a nothing child
but it was mine and it came from a split upon my face

the split had opened a moon ago
and many more came to follow
until I was swept up and growing thin

my sister bathed my black eyes
my lover studied my wrists
they hung pale like ivory 
cepting for the blue twist of vein still scaling up the ridge of bone 
like vines to the bricks of the buildings on my block

you've lost too much blood
she told me
my sister sobbed
you've lost too much of everything
she told me

what is this pain and why is it seeping beneath my floorboards
what germ in my condition is causing this flesh to give
and give what?

give all of me

so I head for the mountains of monsters
up to the west where the sky has no friend
but the mild acquaintance of the starlight

and there it can paint me like a shepherd 
my flock is tumbling from my arms

s. sparling

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