The Smelting Address

Garnered. 

Shaped. 

I lay my head on the white railing, peeled and coming out of the cement. 

Dreams, far off, while life is a snapping finger, for me to "hurry; hurry up!"

My experience is stale- yet I have never become more alive...

I tremble, heart to heart...watching love so inevitably die. And grow. And live. 

Nothing is basic, so I stare at the would-be world, and watch them. Watch them all. Even when I pretend not to notice. 

Screening reactions, sometimes it feels so good to just let it out. 

But she does cry often. 

Comparing the broken against the broken, I have become rubbled bits... 

Loving others, even less whole- trying to forgive it all, that this is my lot in life. 

Words echo, and I must remember to put mirrors to their faces, and reminders to their heir. I am wandering no more, lost woman. Losing myself, I may be. 

Doubts creep up like roots and join with my heart- snare or connection? I love like leaked mass all over white clouds, because simply, God gave me spectacular eyes to see with. 

And while they Drench their women in deceit, I see still the small essence of love underneathe, and forgive even the most cowardly. Forgetting that to do so, tip-toe's my brave.  

It is a pointless dip, in a mighty pool, to love, the way I do. Fallen. So wretchedly in love, with beauty the way I do. Forsaken, for bimbo's and mean things.  As I tread so not to be, and fall short; 

Raised by wolves and growing with snakes, I must learn the charm of all things; moon and men.  

They will never know how I have loved the each of them. Watching them pass it all by. For something so small sometimes. 

So small.  

I suppose it is the means that would justify the end, to these...."types", I hiss...

For they may find happiness in luxury and idol things. 

While most simply, I can not, 

When there is a lulling by the drenched under sea, that has been my life through birth. 

The eyes, I see through, rapturing.  

I pour my smelt tears, and ash, and blood all over this fire, 

For loving has been my every 

Way 

In. 

Initiation. 

I can not tell, if to stay, is like waiting for the lava to stop at my feet or Bury me. 

I love hollow things. Seeing their vast in ways, perhaps they ponder on. 

And ineffably in ways, they will never fathom. 

I loved man. 

Time and time, 

  And time again. 

Breathing myself to sleep, 

Breathing you out. 

Every night. 

With every breath. 

Because you refuse to love as I have loved thee. 

And this to most man. 

And this to every.