Pulsation

Vivid and Close

The dark side of a reader- slowly pulses into each subtraction, calculus of down under where shadow only abides, there is light too; yet, there is beating shadows that have overstayed their visit, they steep in like pike tea, tears and hydrogen peroxide.

I can see it, rather, I can feel it’s presence, it is completely natural and, unsure whether invited or uninvited, it lingers, prolonging costs of release, release me, release, or keep me near, I simply cannot decide.

There are unbidden screws keeping each bolt in place~

mechanical or not, we are wired into the ‘doing’ of life, keepers of the underworld; they know, they simply know, dialogue with the underworld; cruelty and sin, joy and forgiveness~ one must understand the proclamation of good and evil~ good and evil, may silver springs stretch hollow’s eve, no need for any occasion, we are right in the midst of misfits~corruption and perhaps, even bound by invisible chains that keep us toned and responsible.

How in this world does one enter the light, knowing the presence of the other undoing? Knowing undoing itself is rife enough; strong enough, strong enough? Are you that which you speak of?

Keystone, corner stone, edge stone, stone of the grave; multiple stones, do they lay for your wonder, perhaps you walk among the dead, feeling pulsation of each stone of deceased; perhaps it is simple your imagination; feel it, feel it’s pulse, corner stone and it’s pulse.

How surprised would you be at attribution to the strangest aspect of our world?

Can I suggest, slight offence?

Anna Rozwadowska 2019