: Form : Shadow :
A sacred property of glass is translucence.
An unlucky property of glass is translucence. Light’s
entrance is also its exit. Moon trapped in revolving door.
An unlucky property of breath is translucence. The visible
is easier to forgive. Early windows were thin sheets
of alabaster. Earlier still, windows of dragonfly wings.
An unlucky property of breath is chaos.
Unlike wind, breath holds only itself; sometimes,
in winter, casting shadows. Wind casts matter
randomly. Breath casts only itself, randomly.
A sacred property of breath is chaos.
Slow leak from a body of faltering alchemy,
entropy’s lottery. Haphazard light escapes
through the 10,000 gaps between breath and next
breath—invisible flute of fluke. All jelly and no fish.
A sacred property of shadow is chaos,
or rather, the absence of chaos. Silhouette
of refusal, empty map of matter’s insistence.
See how shadow crawls along the ground, seeking
a breach, a crack into which it will someday
drag matter, a place to hide the body.
An unappeasable property of shadow is form.
Denied the rite of translucence, matter calculates
its dark matrix. Collision of body and light—
what falls to the ground will not be trampled
barefoot. No matter; everything beloved is the same
as nothing beloved: godlike. Walk carefully—
your shoes are what you shine your shadow with. |
