Track

Nothing stands alone. 
It doesn't does it? 
Locomotives run on steel rails of strength disproportionate to imagination.
What if you could be the locomotive.
What if you could be the engine of all that happens,
your essence and force steaming off the top,
magnificent weight of words and deeds trailing behind farther than sight.
Wouldn't that be powerful beyond description...
looking down at the manacles on your wrists,
imagine naked pain and youth as they melt away into leaden trails
to form your track.

And this is when you find the fuel to overcome the friction and the gravity
of your situation.
This is when you move inch by inch 
until you are flying and pulling the world along with ease.
You do not stand alone, for
you stand for too much.
Accompanied, though...and beloved.

River Bend

She sold herself down the river
in such minute quantities
the fish never even got sleek or fat,
but simply swam away
in ignorance of what they had eaten.

The water too clear to reflect
anything but what she wanted to see;
it would remain a vision to haunt her,
of who was blind,
and who was left to see...
when she was there no longer.