Building Castles December 12, 2017
Some breakings happen in a flash. One
instantaneous crash, smash and it
is over. A mound of bloody
wreckage for the salvage yard
. or the grave yard.
Then there is erosion. Sand is made
of human hearts pulverized grain by grain
in human hands bedecked in diamonds
and gold and exquisite ointments.
What of sand? It can be reattached
in two ways. The pressure of one hundred
million years fusing the particles in
sedimentary rock or the melting of
volcanoes and kilns and lightening
making glass and black basalt. Let those with noses
. smell me.
If I am to be sand, let me be
sand in the shoes of men always reminding
toes that they walk on the souls of
mourning mothers. Let me be
sand in the bread of the opulent
that I man not go to waste. Let those with tongues
. taste me.
. Let me be
sand in the eyes of the selfish so that they may
. see me.
She writes because she hasn’t committed
suicide. I write because I am sand and
sand is too small to tie a noose around. Go
to the desert and listen. Each grain wails
have you seen my other self? Sand is a roar
in the wind. Let those with ears,
. hear me.
. Let me be sand
in the silk sheets of luxury so I may warm
frozen souls. Let me be sand in the hands
of the hangman. Let those with hearts
. feel me.