By Leila Fortier
It is always with me
Where I do not know~ Stuck in the
Forefront of afterthought~ On the outskirts
Of unformed memory~ And I, of the midnight asking~
Nighting of the unanswered~ This brothel of existence~
No longer of you or I- but of poetry~ Sprouting accents
Of silence~ Compressed between words and letters
The swaddling of unborn sound~ Something
Beyond translation~ We are hunting
With our pens and typing
Ammunition~ This
Hot pursuit
Of the
Yet-to-be
Said~ For the
Spiral bellied within the
Stillness~ The moment to trace
The tender ache~ Bathed in ink like
Antiseptic…like iodine~ The secret knowing
Of consumed poison- for the suffering bliss of
Self-affliction~ This is the pinnacle~ The whittled
Tip of inebriation~ The taste of poetry~ Begging for
Madness~ For the love of uncertainty~ This foliage
Of wildness~ Feral awakening in a jungle of sky
Tangle of soundlessness~ Colored fabric of
Insanity~ Of orange consuming purple
In a billowing tapestry of nothing-
Nothing at all. It all begins
Here, where it ends
The inception
Of first
And
Last page~
A book without binding~
Paperless vortex of sublime rumination~
Confection of nonexistence…and the secret to this hunger
Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing, SNHU Student