We are meant to be imbalanced

We are meant to be imbalanced

We are meant to be imbalanced 1920 1280 Shana Ross

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.

Photo by Anslee Wolfe.

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