Lukewarm

There was strange geometry
In the dream:

Lines blurred
Crooked,
Serrated metal
Hanging from his rough mouth.

After years of abuse
And the rivet was forced,
It continued
Even in her absence,
She was remotely
Hammered
It was ordered
And skillfully applied
Until the contrast
Between who she was
And the distant, irrelevant person
They sought to make her
Was buried
In obscurity.
They who claimed to know
Him
Participated,
Thus, forgetting the least of these.

And He saw it all.

So the displeasure of her
Father
Flared
Through the crust of the
Canyon
Like a torch.
Everywhere they ran
It rained bubbling
Puddles onto Lukewarm.
And upon the
Lukewarm,
There a fire ignited
Upon streets, rooftops,
People alike.

At the uppermost intersection
Just below the high hedge,
A river of wind, a vortex of filth appeared
Filled with dark, darting, jagged flocks.
He was swept up & carried in that river.
She remained beside him,
But grounded & in clear air
Yet unsure of what to do for him.
He grasped her hand
Pleading for her to help him,
But it was far too strong
And he entered
A bad seam.
Still he called for her love to help him,
But she could not,
Because it was he who had
Made the decision long ago
To suffer himself to that seam;
In that he never understood
What it meant to
Cherish.

Suddenly,
Their hands were separated by a mighty,
Flaming sword
The river of wind was drawn in fully
The seam sealed shut.

And there was peace.

gjh.

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