Find a crack in language,
move into it with dissension.
Disrupt and disgruntle,
create a chasm,
a miasm.
Parse phrases into
segregated clumps of clay and
you will be the one left
holding arms and charms
and hovering swarms.
A truly cracked sorceress
conjuring confusion.
Never knowing up from down.
Turn around, you clown
let the rain make naked
your face.
Explore emptiness.
Learn to let go of
everything but breath.
Fill in those cracks
with the light
from your shine.
Brenda Warren 2014
Written for Elizabeth’s Day 3 prompt.