The word are there. There are words and words, and words some more. The story still is missing. Each line dissolves it further, each sentence ends the one before. Each sentence ends in a sentence. The words are through, the words will follow.
Oh the weight of the metal. Oh the flavor of steel. It is at the heart of this riddle, the bluff manners of oblivion. The darkness fills with shadows, which are slick with oil, which are sealed in dank earth and cold marble. The longed for stillness that endings masquerade as, the thought that at least the thoughts will cease. The explanation no one wants unravels, leaving streams on the blank face and threads in the tangled hair. No one ever meets that gaze. No one ever wakes up free.
The words settle in the blind depths, they grind down the gears. They wriggle in the guts and reaches. Those slabs of matter where meaning never penetrates. Say what you want, say where you think you are going. Try to untether this ache that is waiting. Tell your story, and wait for the end.
Oh the weight of the metal. Oh the flavor of steel. It is at the heart of this riddle, the bluff manners of oblivion. The darkness fills with shadows, which are slick with oil, which are sealed in dank earth and cold marble. The longed for stillness that endings masquerade as, the thought that at least the thoughts will cease. The explanation no one wants unravels, leaving streams on the blank face and threads in the tangled hair. No one ever meets that gaze. No one ever wakes up free.
The words settle in the blind depths, they grind down the gears. They wriggle in the guts and reaches. Those slabs of matter where meaning never penetrates. Say what you want, say where you think you are going. Try to untether this ache that is waiting. Tell your story, and wait for the end.
priscila:
really thank you for your sweet comment on my new set