Every Time I Speak to Bliss

a poem and a painting

“A Beautiful Collision”

Every Time I Speak to Bliss

Blasted by insight, then left to rearrange
the cells that got scattered
in the recesses of my brain

What awakens is not what I expect
”be with the discomfort
and even the regret”

Every time I speak to bliss
she reminds me
of her temporal nature
the consolation before inevitable disbelief

I fear what lies in silence
but I know the call to yield
too well
far too well

At least I see the signs now
insidious as they may be

The love that doesn’t change me
is not love but vanity

Letting go is being still with the urgency
that surfaces from beneath