They\u2019ll never know the half of it.
\nThe world in its fiery youth.
\nThe Garden of Eden
\nuprooted a million times a million.
\nThe strange painter,
\nwriting graffiti on the walls of mountains,
\nlong since melted by time.
\nThe torrid love affairs
\nthat yielded to blows.
\nHow hard love struggles.
\nThe bodies of Pompeii
\nembracing their children.
\nThe petals of geologic time in a poem,
\nin a drawer,
\nin a book.<\/p>\n
They\u2019ll never know the half of it,
\nthat woman stumbling
\nalong the aisle way of a store.
\nThe orphan in a prison cell.
\nThe saint who had nothing
\nto give away.
\nThe long and short of everything
\nis,
\nin the end,
\nsilence.
\nA white rose on a grave.
\nA book of blank pages.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
They\u2019ll never know the half of it. The world in its fiery youth. The Garden of Eden uprooted a million times a million. The strange…<\/p>\n