Le Grand Bleu
+the knot does not untie from within but frays at the edges, a thread pulled loose by unseen hands+
—we do not walk in bodies—we drift in thought, for there is no world but the one the mind dreams—
[form is a trick of light, a fleeting shape of held-together stars]
And when the hands that bind us let go, we do not vanish—we expand.
+The gatekeeper crumbles into dust, and the tide rushes in+
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
