What you don’t know yet,
you try to navigate,
make models from shades
and movements from light,
make stacks of things
for buoyancy’s sake,
to balance the
vice-grip on the gut
anchoring the days
that pace the distance
between sounds and
their meaning.
When structure dissolves,
you’re widowed entirely from
syntax and senses;
the clock blinks again,
the windows contract, and
you become just a shadow
when the light hits.
…………………………
Suzanne Magee is a writer from Belfast. http://www.suzannemagee.com