All That We Knew

the size of the hand does not matter it is the fingers that fill the empty space between your god and the impeccable design of a successful journey that breaches the murky depths and then drowns clean again the right the wrong insignificant delusions of grandeur it was my scrupulous eyes that robbed me blind all of those moments lost and beautiful turned to stone in an instant my petrified history a frozen web of imagination a fortress that guarded from me the pentacle of truths that I somehow forgot as though it were a dream that just kept slipping away.