Now We Are Electric
Now we are electric, and dying to be
imprinted onto whiteness.
We long to see that dark ink of our minds.
Some call all this talk
deathbed scenes torn from our youth,
some say nothing at all but tap
to unwrap a breathless thought.
Now we are this tap-tapping
on the lids of space-boards -
open casket viewings, penny-weight eyes
rising to world where life
can be rehearsed again.
Going to the light,
a framed light, an asking light,
where words wait to be buried again
into a blind humming ether.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2020
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