The sky need not fall in order for the world to come to an end; for the world has had many ends, and the sky is already falling.
Just because one can feel it All at once, doesn’t mean one can see it All at once. My issues concerning this are founded upon a heightened sensitivity that comes with the deterioration of the eyes; affording only pain to fill the gaps in my vision. Why can’t I just live with the holes, at the loss of a comprehensive whole? For to do so would be immoral.
My arrival home is announced not by four and twenty black birds baked into a pie, but rather four and twenty black birds baked right into the landscape; scenically staring, following my every move; forever embedded there, so deep into the soil- so deep into my soul- that I imagine life would taste much different in their absence.
Copyright Keli Birchfield 2012