We are meant to be imbalancedhttps://i0.wp.com/barrenmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/Wolfe_19.jpg?fit=1920%2C1280&ssl=119201280Shana RossShana Rosshttps://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/f3dfb44b5db368afe351670aac017b8d?s=96&d=mm&r=g
the shuffle step of god in whose image
we pair too neatly and attract demons.
Although there is no absolute proof
for this particular danger, as you collect
dots to connect, let them list and lean.
Plow fallow ground. Really get in there.
Break the crust and the loneliness.
Do not sow among thorns. Maybe take
five and have a snack. Worse than two
is two and two. Cups, coitus. Drink
reclining, in the name of freedom once
and once more, never twice. Then repeat.
What was, already was.
Don’t look at wine if it is red.
This night is watched, has always been guarded,
is safe from demons who come to feed on your desire
to balance each deed on top of a stack when you
have been warned to break one and one and one and one.
Separate, separated, separately. We say this is holy.
A tree held from falling creaks in the upright split
of stronger branches; two streams melt then meet
become strong, fast, cold in their conjoined hunger.
Pairs bear the responsibility for their inevitable divide.
Have one more mouthful to unpair everything
you have swallowed. The demons walk through
the spine of the book once cracked, the door
that does not creak on its hinges, the double fist.