Shining

Shining


Easy to lose yourself

in the G minor hum

of supermarket refrigeration

that sounds like shine on (part one).

 

And if you see Syd tell him

that we tried to make it work

but the odds were stacked against us.

 

Tell him that somewhere in-between

the palm of our hand

and the unforgiving moon

there is a room with no threshold

where the world rushes in

without a bye or a leave

and we are left to stare out

at the space that lies beyond.

 

But he knows that already.

 

*

 

Eyes like pools into which we plunge

pearl diving in the meat aisle

fragile encounters

we only ever notice

when taking the care not to.

 

For it is not the form that impresses itself upon us

but the emptiness from whence comes the guest.

 

The brevity of strangers

who pass at the ready meals

breathing the same air

surfing the same warm drone

that lifts us to a place

where we converse in thoughts alone.

 

Or so I imagine. 

 

*

 

Behind this cotton mask

it's like the overlook hotel

faces on the labels of pasta sauce jars

tell me that I've always been here.

 

And who's to say I haven't?

 

 

 

August 2021