Lament

I can see it.

Can you  not?

This brightness and white-hot light?

Can you not smell

the fire-scent of rebirth?

.

Darkness follows,

cool, soothing darkness,

a balm to all of my wounds.

.

You can just barely sense the arrival of the new self,

the air tingling with discovery.

.

My back rests on cold, polished stone

as I reach my hands to part the velvet,

but nothing,

thick and musty nothingness

meets my arms and face.

.

In the distance I hear music;

soft, slow music.

Words of twisted lament

speak of ultimate sadnesses.

But I am new and have not yet been filled,

so I drink the emotion and revel in feeling anew,

.

All that I know is of sadness.

It is filling and complete.

My eyes see dancing,

the music leaps in the darkness.

.

I awake to vague impressions,

a desire for sadness.

Apr 5, 1996

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