the curve in the light

Imagine what he'd be like if he did drugs. The mind boggles.

the curve in the light

will you let me in
to flee the cold and holden times
where pain is a currency
and loves are crimes?

bitter pill, I swallow still,
so little left with which to fill
my hollow frame, once of a name
to call the light in hardest night.

dance for me that I might know
the purpose in the seeds you sow -
to take me live and leave me dead -
or merely in a colding bed.

so soft the smile you beckon come
that I strain not, and swallow some
sunlight that you smuggled to my cell,
a drink, I think, from your sacred well.

to bring to my mind times long past
and barren bones of die once cast
and for a moment I can feel
what saline reign dares to conceal.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.