Between abusers and abused, how
am I to remain unmoved to mighty
anger, poised as I am, as we all are,
in a membrane around our wheeling house.
Which situation lends me a syzygy:
locus, even focus, between earth's core
and our sun Sol -- both fearsome heat sources.
It's my heart feeling those tides -- my tiny
engine -- enflamed as it stretches -- cooked o'er
fevers it cannot fathom nor ignore:
torture.
— joystjohn
am I to remain unmoved to mighty
anger, poised as I am, as we all are,
in a membrane around our wheeling house.
Which situation lends me a syzygy:
locus, even focus, between earth's core
and our sun Sol -- both fearsome heat sources.
It's my heart feeling those tides -- my tiny
engine -- enflamed as it stretches -- cooked o'er
fevers it cannot fathom nor ignore:
torture.
— joystjohn
Powerful!
ReplyDeleteBeing moved to "mighty anger" becomes "torture." I can understand that, I think. Which word do you think I had to look up? (smiles). I really like the DISTANCES here... they are vast. I mean, you can only see your heart as a "tiny engine" when you have that perspective. (Macoff)
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