untitled
brian tolle
nothing much more to say.
every time i start to get a foot hold,
night comes and reminds me that i am alone.
why is love
so much more important in the dark
perhaps because we can't see anything to replace it
or we are confronted with the hole in our hearts
or the bed is cold
even after you warm the sheets
there is still space
on your right
and your left
above, below
inside
the light does not come from within
we are no longer fooled by the hope of it.
the light is simply reflected by a tint that is
mere leaf on the skin
with the light gone
gold is black,
the same as diamond
(the same as dirt)
the voice not heard calling
yelling
sooth, or whisper
the hand not smoothing
smacking
the love won't enter
the dark that wraps fingers as
fully as a willow round the water
has no sinister plan
but is
it being the not being that cannot not be
the malice of the loneness
is inherant
in the loneness alone
no killowatt hour
no jule
squeezed through filament
will change the truth of nothing.
only love.
Brian Tolle
