Grown Shouts
Minus freezing
solid of a night when differences made the start of a near. coming apart the allowances bathed in unaddressed isolation. showing from that which idled. staying as a source to the refrigeration unearthed in disguise.
wondering the sounds as minus freezing. coping to discover minutes related to shadows. ovens hot piping with ornamental tea-strokes countering wisps gathering dust in storage.
a balance forgave itself out of ordinary substances unless trapped without alignment. hiding forces melting salutations beneath undercurrents masked in flavor. clustered for the sights that were seen.
gone is a day. that won time away. when it started to enshrine nothing blew a form to play. it stung nightingales blowing smoke. heartened withered courts dancing in ships of steel.
gasps and items remembered basking in hovered idolatry. missing as a namesake with remains reported to be bad. a negation lasting twilights framed against what stood.
***
Thank you for reading.
This was checking into an inn with a giant bed and French glass doors opening on the balcony. Perfectly aligned to get your head right!
During my second read, I thought about being in a poetry class and being assigned several page essays explaining poems. You’d really throw the class for a loop, Jill!
My essay would point out why I think this is about the end of a relationship. And if it’s not, just let me have this win.