Untitled, London Bellman
sojourn
I have been closer to the edge
than the edge itself;
I have swallowed plastic medications
and bled from the stillness in my
gut— the calm, in facing imminent
death.
I have been awake in the late hours
and I have heard
the nightbirds screaming,
the stars dying,
the earth turning in a slow grind
on its axis.
I have lived through the many
successive deaths of my cells,
travelled dusty museums and bright lit
coffee shops to search for one thing only:
I have come for home,
because it is no longer the place I left, and it won’t be
where I’m going.
_______________
C.A. Allen