Thursday, January 13, 2011

My Fable For You

My Fable For You

There's an extraction flowering in
magnificence, of bodies symmetrical as undersides

of wide petals. The process dismisses etiolating
the core of resplendence, empowered

with vigor complicitous as
molecules in photosynthesis. If

the object involves an
exotic idea, chances are, no

matter how slow the
extraction, an anemia of

suns sets in, a paleness
textured as lunar

vacuums. If the object
concerns Eden in

you levitating in the nexus
of tears and abandoned

proclivities, I crave the
intransigence of solipsism,

hardening exponentially
into the spacious

universe of skulls, where
gods still multiply,

vast as the
autism of myths.

--Michael Caylo-Baradi lives in California. Some of his work has appeared at  Otoliths, Metazen, BlazeVox, and elsewhere.

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