memory of futurity

history

spreads before me:

 

a map

of unmade memories,

 

configured

in an unfamiliar

chronology.

 

a vague arrangement

of salient moments;

 

frames

which await

the mercurial

and mundane.

 

how comforting,

how strange,

 

to

know

the

hollow

 

syntax

of

my

days

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in the beginning

was the word.

 

a mute note:

void; unheard.

 

it ascended the throat

(that choked-up aisle)

 

to the mouth, baptised

in a pulpit of spit and enamel.

 

syllables strained at the pews of the teeth,–

congregating in phrases and aching to speak.

 

the tongue is an altar.

it alters my sermon-song.

 

my words dissolve

before i have begun