Several Meaningless
And I walk out Done.
Clear the Way.
Nearing Seemingless
Oblivion.
Have I reached equilibrium?
Now that I walk out Done.
One Real Day.
It's all pressing against me, a formless brush, mountainslop
I've ascended. Branches slap my face and
I push them away and
My feet pound the unbroken earth
Clearing the Way.
One more Day.
Almost Done.
When I can't step out of those doors, that brush.
When I can look back on the building
Not with a next day or week or people or assignment in mind,
But with memory, with Shape and Center.
Reason Will maybe Come.
But Reason Comes Slowly.
To Open One Eye, You Must First Close Another.
One open to see the building that stares back.
One closed to greet the memory that stretches further back
With each step in time and space,
I distance myself away
From the Actual Occurrences
Of that Place.
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