Friday, November 18, 2016

Cecilia White #2 The Need to Move

The need to move

Why move to another city
To be alone and fight our demons?
We can have it all right here
And now. Just look at him
Drawn in the corner. An outline
Of solitude with a wretched air
From failing to slay time
A defensive loop he repeats
Like Don Quixote each tilting day
Arm slashing the sun with a cardboard cup

He looks to dowse the dawning flames
With eyes, a chaotic burst of ink on water
Floating rhizomes
To spread a rumour of prussian blue
With its reputation for stability
But each paling tendril takes root in a memory
That surrenders an argument
or an entire family to a flaring desire
To reach for somewhere brighter

See his hands, palms filthy from the fight
Burnt umber splinters smudged into creases
Only survivors know how to make
Alerting us to furrows, precipices and falls
When we expect too much
Or say that’s enough
His willow jawline is a history of ash
Punctuated by stabbing grunts as he pokes
The air, remembering

The need to move to fight our demons.

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