A claw
closing in around us.
And
waiting.
As it
always has been.
Waiting
for a reverence,
I cannot
give it.
I can't
understand,
Let
alone be it.
It is
too strange for me and
I am too
far away.
There is
a moment when all is lost to it.
We are
an island surrounded.
And we
are too difficult.
It is a
pleasure.
It is a
loss.
To be so
cut off.
To be so
stranded.
The
white has eaten the green.
There is
nothing left.
Even the
light basks in its glory.
Even the
light is not its own.
We all
have to be difficult.
We all
have to be strange.
But most
of all,
We all
have to be lonely.
