meditations of the beast

variance, the jacquard rose,
against red another lesser red,
next to yellow another yellow.
each color holding its other
still, too still, as if
against the line of time itself.

groundless, as if  colors only,
regardless of form,   without
any  abstraction, that
nexus  into which    this
damage  was
pressed   i break
all ways when the night  has  come
and the land   is dark
and  the moon    is  the only  light we'll see
no   i won't be   afraid
no i   won't   shed  a tear
just as long   as you
stand
by
me