12. And They Have Escaped the Weight of Darkness

and they have escaped the weight of darkness,

flying—

its sticky fingers no longer clawing

at their hair,

the tails of their shirts, their memories,

their soles;

they have escaped the weight

of darkness,

have nestled it carefully once more

between Atlas’ shoulder blades,

have bitten into the golden apple

and fled;

have escaped,

have slipped under cover of daylight

into suspension and color;

have escaped,

and as fugitives hide,

telling not their names

and brushing dark histories aside;

of darkness,

of the isolation one cannot unknow,

of the blindness thick as unbelief,

thicker than forgetting her face,

his name,

escaped,

and from that bright oblivion,

floating,

shall not return.

I started reading e. e. cummings, and I realized very suddenly how much I missed physical-less poetry!!! Oh, goodness. So far this project I've been pretty loyal to the Williams Carlos Williams creed, "No ideas but in things." I am proud of this first departure because it's just really fun. 

The title and first line is also the title of a song by Olafur Arnalds, which is kind of mediocre, but I really like the words together. 

Can you imagine me trying to write poetry without allusions? Like every poem is an allusion. I'm like T. S., only he was better at it 'cause he's freaggin' T. S. Eliot, droppin' some Dante up in that bitch.

...and, cue the moment to stop talking.