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Fissures

"Fissures" acrylic on canvas by Cristina Querrer


Within the fissures--words
Caught in between the slats
Like meat in between teeth

Keep grinding the bone
Till there is no more
Furthermore no fossilized
Imprints of someone's death grip
To remind us of the turbulence

Somewhere in the cracks
Someone said "I love you"
Someone else said
"We're better off apart"

There's the cave drawing of us
Primal, minimal that just
Points out the obvious
"It is what you make it"

Yet I try to save you
From yourself and you
Insist it is me who is drowning
Chip away at my chivalry
But you know I am right all along

Another chance may come
But hurry, the paint is peeling
Take my hand, I'll pull you up
I'm prophetic, you know

Ghosts from these walls
Tell me things--they say
You will perish here or there
But don't thank me for
Bringing you to this room
Because you decided to stay

It's time to go
Stop being stuck, frozen
Like the broken clock
The bureau is full
Of old clothes that don't fit
The closet is full of mold

Go to the window
You'll see me waving below
Wake up, wake up, I keep
Saying--the island
Will bury you if you stay
Too long--they'll
Take to their spears

Yet you think I'm the enemy
You shun me, shut me out
I understand
It's part of the illness
If possible, run
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