by Andrea Lynn Grossman
I quarrel with the light. I sway my guidance and the seas around me shift. Have i become taut for wrath? Shall i care? For struck barren i only witness shadows.
The light betrays my sight casting forth only representations. I begged for occupance, not of shadow, but of light. Reflection and delighted occulance, but i am no longer able to conduct.
The waves seize me and i shift my glance. Only to be welcomed back by cusping silhouettes.