“Today’s remains stand upon the virtues of stretching the truth, the idea of truth, that gold throat. We liked you as sunlight, ” from “Sunshine Prosthetic” by Karl Parker
Remember when we were just an idea,
a fleeting miniscule cell perhaps on the brink of nothingness.
There were no boxes to crawl out of, no bad days or fevered tizzies.
The purity of it all, the connection, the spark.
Yet we go down this path and forget and forget and forget
until the dark has crept up and permeated everything.
Why can’t we remember that we were an idea
in the mind of it all and then came to being,
rare like emeralds
bright like diamonds
shining in the face
to do what we came to do.