Approaching
Future just as always, closed to our Projections—yet a glowing redness grows Behind my eyelids; now belying dour Objections that what lies ahead arose From better possibilities destroyed, Mosaic fragments—shreds—in painful stretch To illustrate what might have been, devoid Of continuity—a crippled sketch… But now comes scarlet, nearly blinding me, (Accustomed as I’ve grown to walk at night) And that same hand that’s been unwinding me Is carrying me toward a different light… Mistook that last... Sign in to see full entry.