the last star
Any attempt on my part to say something about it,
to attempt explanation of the inexplicable, could only destroy it.
- jackson pollock
She howls into the night
The roaring smells like revolution;
She wants to descend.
There’s always a deeper sea,
But the mouth is not grand enough;
She is thirsty
But the ocean is not moist enough.
She howls into the light
The shining sparks freedom
She wants to ascend;
There’s always a larger universe,
But the sun is not bright enough.
She travels in time,
But the heart is not cold enough.
She sings into the sky,
The melody shines like a starry night;
She intends to forget
–There’s always a wider sea;
A louder world
A darker song,
But the words are not strong enough.
She asks for a return ticket
To a strange land,
Somewhere near the line that crosses the horizon
Between the sea and the infinite.
But, oh!, butterflies…
She can’t find her wings
Did someone steal them?
She wishes she could ascend
Break the wind with her skin
–S t a r t a r e v o l u t i o n.
Her spirit howls
She howls into the mystery of life
She explodes like a billion Big Bangs.
It is better to expand her voice
Than scratch silence
And die alone.
But she is solitary
And wants to die;
Because peace can be found in eternal silence,
And perhaps even goddess might find her.
She is thirsty;
Her words smell like revolution
But poetry is not enough
Her soul breaks
And she disappears with the last star
That won’t find a firmament.
painting by k bocanegra
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