No finite point has meaning without an infinite reference point.
– Sartre
Breeze turns to wind
at the mark of the winter
season. Dust turns to ash;
These are the days
when everything
reminds me of you.
As a player of previous
draws,
I recognize this.
Take the slip from out
from under you
and place it by the mantel.
Scars upon scars
build new,
fresh tissue.
I dream
of rape and pillage
and faithless treachery.
if god wanted us to believe
why did he not make the
belief more appealing?
instead you’re fed
a set of rules
to construct your life upon.
and taught the one who suffered
in agony,
tortured and scorned
is the very one who
bore your soul,
resurrected.
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