No one told her the world was flat.

She didn't know any better,
they'd all croak.

but I knew.
I knew as her witness.

It was an invisible war
lighting inside of me
to let the world keep turning
and be powerless to hold
her limbs....
how they circled the atlas,
hoping perspectives
would fly at her,
marking her with something
distinct,
the theory of creating wings
to breath upon.

They'd all yell,
bruising her blind soul.

And all I did was shield my face
so I wouldn't have to keep seeing
this innocent knife twisting,
cut after cut
while everyone lied
and led her to a cloud-filled
paradise.

-
Written November 24, 2011.