And I see them in the air, like the vanes of a windmill, and I feel my life circulating inside them
A pretense the size of insight or
What creed meant inside a speech, what it meant in a name, and silently, if you leave a space for it was ready to be a motion, something meaningless before its rhythm. Some runaway sense made me stay, let him stay, believing in patterns, patrilineal, all the wrong shields attend all the righteous with temptation and let them turn to it. Our gestures break away from us as what togetherness does to push us apart. The sparkle of physics translates to the crackle of rain and back
to the ark
we hid in a fable in their favorite book. Rebel army. Red rain dream. Famous venue. Fancy back seat. Practicing parallels
(We be their) Militant fantasy. To float in the space between
