Ripples in the Glass


He calls it pride, but it feels like fear. As if the shadows of thought could be
gathered this way, ripple against ripple, the lives within their life together.
Love doesn’t exist. Not without us. There is no Love is. It must be made, with or
without the body it comes in.
Pride radiates like a heat mirage from the familiar chills they used to view their
world. Masters of deception, enamored of their gifts. Gods sipping colored lights.
Sunrise pours over the mountains and clouds, a great streaked froth of godspew, its
patience melding and giving itself away in the wonderfully misspent morning.
I can’t tell you enough about it. You’ll have to finish. You’ll have to dance.

Rich Ives is the author of Tunneling to the Moon: A Psychological Gardener’s Book of Days currently being published in serial @ Silenced Press everyday in 2014 and forthcoming in paperback. Begin from the beginning, catch up, read daily. Just refer to the Burrow Guide.