The Day before Easter: Awaiting the Resurrection {Anastasia | Anesthesia}

again and here I stand, attempting
to define the indefinable,
to speak the unspeakable
again and here I lay, desperate
to dream through sleeplessness
while hoping against hope
          (should be outlawed for
          this is what hope gets us)
          words unspoken, vague
          gestures, clumsy conversations:
          pretending we’re better off
          by pretending we’re better off
                    repeating the same routine, but
                    still some how cut off
                    from feeling – Anesthesia
we deserve better than
reciprocal moments caught
between mirrors, between
echoes of Jericho remembered
when the walls come down
will the walls come down
          when will you rise,
          resurrect me
          Anastasia?

I find myself in a world I do not know, where staring at the sun makes sense, where we blind ourselves to keep from seeing what we want to see, from being born again, from here I stand, attempting to define the indefinable, to speak the unspeakable, repeating the same routine, but still some how cut off caught between mirrors, between echoes of your name on my lips, my lips on your name, resurrection.

03/16/2011

Posted on 03/17/2011
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