The Pulley

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Carson Brown, Photo by Mary Frances Looke “Floating Felt…”

Motions move through my skin

like sea bound repercussions.

—To obey who art within—

How to scribble the words of a madman speaking on point,

through mouths of recreation

& subjects of joint.

Shall be one to hold

& one to see,

Shall be one for the masses,

lightening the load for thee.

Where art thou in a pond of pity,

but under the miracle of a soul-bound lily.

To speak above the moment of own,

to learn to love the grace one’s shown.

To be with thou everlasting soul,

To be & to sow of what I reap & console.

I call for your sweetness on nights like these,

when the seven days aren’t passing,

& I’m no longer praying as a tease.

All those seconds,

in-fact,

every single one—

I was playing,

the dedicated role

of a sun.

I was & am still shining right through,

all the lines I memorized

& related to you.

For friendship is just that,

a leaf to a tree,

the bound understanding that you need me—

& selfless it is for it glorifies infinitely.

To share your lightness & boundless energy,

I thank you for being grateful to me.

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