Prelude

I was whole
like porcelain stroked wet and brittle
and I fell from your soft hands
in a slow breath's curl
like a feather drowning
in denial's woe.

Reaching for
the high sunlight I collapsed
from warm flesh to the crack
of bone, shattered
into ice's pain,
the dust of loss.

I cried silent screams, a choke to the nobody.
I clawed at the walls of carbon soil, and bled
until blood's iron bite became my friend.

Now I am a cavalcade of sparks,
a rolling mist of seeking why and how.
If only you could see me now.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.