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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I lost my ability to think for myself As I sat atop the Church of Santa Maria de Idris Carved into the cliffside while I sat sewn into its ridges I had spent the former sun’s passage wandering the City of Stones The hours loosened themselves as I passed beneath canopies of trailing vines Draped over blanched bricks steeped In shades of beige-and-brown-and-orange-and-grey Vestiges of the past worn Down each wall, each path Woodwinds whistle and beckon me from the distance But my anticipation allows no acquittance I remain doggedly beholden to The eventual night that promised to keep me alone I lie in the sky yet remain fastened to the earth My back chiseled by the jagged rock I chose as my resting place My head suspended beyond its edge So that the stars sleep beneath me and the city Yellowed by the languor of its dim-lit paths Hangs in the balance of our sweet nothingness Zig-zagging-every-which-way Like an I Spy book brought suddenly to life Can you spot the soul in a world you know possesses none? I speak of this not with any great anguish But with a peculiar sense of contentment One that has itself become the source of my gravest grief For its mere existence renders mine worthless I strain to reach into the dimness of memory I blacken my mind to conjure my darkest fears I even invite you into my mind Dressed in every shade of my maladjustment But none can hold a candle to the sight that lies before me Along with the sharp ache impressed on my back For the first time, physicality exceeds my once-thought-bottomless-imagination And my mind affords me no liberation Though I have always sought after some chimerical escape Only here do I realize that such elusion is but another passage through delusion And not the good kind The kind that leaves me feeling childish and naive As though in leaving I had mistaken distance for transcendence Believing myself to be rising above it all When all along I had been looking at the whole world upside down
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