emphasis

The eyes often lack the resolve of the vision, let alone the bent of the lensing, signs overlooked and the witness underwhelmed. Time spent between the screens and sheets of symbolic sediment, the grammar of sieves and gravity’s tongue, shirts and skins and infinite worlds to puzzle out. The reverse engineering suffering from a paucity of data and the weight of case studies, the world always seeming out of sorts. I pick the wrong thread and lose the narrative. I flip a switch and end up squinting from the light.

I want what I want and I want it too much. I’ve learned to do without, but not without complaint. I’m as dumb as the next one, I take to the details that suit me. I drop clauses and weigh emphasis in my favor. It’s no wonder I miss a lot. It turns out the case against me is usually pretty strong. Believe me, I’m as shocked as you.

Always the words that start out askew, plus the goblins, imps, and bugaboos. Always a trap waiting near the treat. Springing down a steep wooded hill so fleet and spry, a hair’s breadth between flight and falling. The dashing delirium so familiar from the dream. The itching and burning of that stubborn inner light. The lessons learned for burned bridges and lost worlds. Each day the ruckus of the lexicon. Each night these burdens born anew. The believer always ready to betray.