Trevor McCauley

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Close Encounter

You are free until you push

And it pushes you right back

Out into space, spun through the vortex of letting go

I all goes moving past your senses

Forgiveness becomes all points of contact

When disciples stretch out their arms

They want something more from you than words

That assurance fills volumes of edited scrolls

Items of recollection

This is beginning to feel distant

When you arrive

You know what ability’s worth has for you:

The itemization of currency

Blocks of writing utensils

Hurried by their progress

We are all but descendants looking at a broken script

We feel, we break the bonds

Whatever we know as love:

It flows down

It happens with our eyes closed