Used To Be

There was a day
Or a week or a moment
Memories in ground glass
The subtle hues a symptom
But I was not there

I switched from the desperate voice
To the awkward, standing silence
And while the perspective changed
I found myself locked in
Where I used to be

The sensations of touch and taste
Gave way to a frail contemplation
The motions imperceptible
But the rhythms so familiar
I skipped in my vinyl shell

In an aggregate of agitation
And the lye of the lie as I lay
Brought bitter wind’s condemnation
As I recollect and reconnect
With what I used to be

The weight of the wait sits upon me
The typhoon of circumstances dictate
The measure of what was and what is
Accumulates as flakes before dawn
Plowed clean to fill again

Distant thunder demands
Rooster vane whirls unabated
Nerves fire like permafrost lightning
Could I ever get used
What would never be?

As the darkness shattered
And the seas baptised the night
The vessel lost in Black Harbour
Found the narrows pushing the limits
Dagger rocks at the ready

Startled by the flash and flame
Discarded like the broken doll
Prostrate and waiting for absolution
For what I was used to
Only to be

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