coming home

Sometimes I have to push you back

Because you could touch this electric wire at the base of my neck

Where dark and light energy collide

You see, as all the light expands up my spine

It sometimes encounters these closed hands at my throat

Where a primal forest bristles with clots of black

And an attack fear closes my fists

My wrists are beaten with tiny panic tattoos

And my soul walks separately from all this.

This is when you might use those navigation skills

Those forced marches, forest-ken and drills

This is when those lonely winter nights under the sky’s black dome

Might provide you with a compass

Might help you find the way

To bring me home

Or if you are prepared to wait

Know I’ll be coming home, just a little late


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