You’re a Torah scroll.
You’re a mountain rock.
You’re a page filled with ancient talk.
You’re two, brilliant blue sapphire blocks.
You’re a temple wall,
an empty ark.
You’re masquerading as the dark.
You’re a writer gone mad,
a writer gone to ground,
a writer on the lam,
you don’t want to be found.
You're a palimpsest,
a brazen monologist,
an all-too-fallible psychotherapist
a single,
lonely
witness
to the event.
We won’t stop looking for you,
wherever you went.
You will be who you will be.
You’re a blue screen,
You’re the ocean depths.
In the blue of the midday sun,
your throne is all of you
that’s left.
See it from here.
You never talk back.
You’re a divine hack.
You should be better than that.