By Jordan Hanson
He was vicious and he was cruel.
And I loved him, but I knew, knew, knew Him.
And it seemed so safe.
But it tarnished at the edges. Our love, that is.
So we stayed in the middle and we forgot we had feet (for walking), or eyes (for seeing), or knees (for crawling).
We somehow remembered we had hands and we touched each other constantly
And it reminded me of love.
And we polished the center of it. Our love, that is.
And it reminded me of?
And we bore it downward, into the center and we went down under. And it seemed so safe.
We eventually forgot we had ears (for?) and our touch grew soft, pale at the edges and then the center, too.
We could sense our groping for things we remembered we built in the middle of a tarnished metal plate of?
And we suffered through our own tragedy to find each other.
But we soon forgot what we forgot we could do and we grew colder but we thought we could remember what we use to do?
I thought I could see
But I forgot that I forgot how to see. And then I forgot, it seemed