John Robert Lee
[untitled]
1.
We step to
eternity from now
the instant
at our feet
the present
intersection
of
irrevocable hours —
what
heart’s door slams shut?
what
terrible holy turns inside out?
what mirror
fixes this corrupt?
what
unbeing dislocates the shrieking ghost?
Ah, but
blessèd saint,
clocks
stilled and maps scrolled —
what high
gates dissolve?
what holy
tender comes?
what grace
returns what grace?
what glory
now unfolds within this earth?
2.
They
“They all lie in wait for blood;
Every man hunts his brother with a
net.” – Micah7:2
It’s
generosity that’s not there.
They don’t
give, they distrust the open hand.
Their own
worth is hidden from them.
Those
bodies breed monster hearts.
They don’t
know their own beauty.
They don’t
trust love.
They don’t
love.
They don’t.
They.
3.
Camilo and
me
cavorting
in the shadows’
imagination
of their
framed portraits
of Camilo
and me, at
the
surf-breaking end
of Ocean
Spray, like
kindred
spirits of shadows
of clouds
on reef pools.
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