11 January 2015

A Tangle of Snakes

The glimmer of light on wire
like water sliding along a string,

both move with a grace,
a simplicity which eludes the rest of us.

Or do we elude it, yearning
to be complex and complicated,

wanting at once to be more,
everything even, so much more

than the knot of desires
that sits within, deep, low in the belly,

writhing like the tangle of snakes
it is, becoming less as it twists,

tightens, until after a time it is
spent, this knot, as fragile and dense

as a delicate chain abandoned in a box.
If yearning could set us free

we would slide, unencumbered
to the other side.

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