road to go

The night has its measures. The stars have their stripes. The sky stirs, the wheel turns, the song gets another verse. The room is dark with smoke and motion. A life flickering against the blinds.

An arc of ache stretching over the horizon. The leaden  limbs, the struggling breath. The abstraction of a series of distresses. The fitful persistence of a fading light.

All the words I’ve pinned to the poster board. All the words I hung on the line. The climbing groan of clockwork. The crabbed hand in the margins. This dream dragged like chains. The burning brand in your darkest night, the web you walk into.