Obrenone

Getting back, if I have to crawl back,
However intact
To Obrenone

You and I, assimilated
You and I, assimilated

Diverging in the pitch
From its appearance in the day
What materializes
ineffable, liquid state
Asymmetric, as our own fate
Between fault and thought
Unmoving

May have entered on foreign iron
Steaming in the eddy around the feet
Mist condensing a trickle in the ear
Persuading one to change
Consuming one's essentials
Would shed a downpour torrential
Except, a designed anesthetic for every complaint
Still, a resigned desire to escape
A wish to put the candle to the template
Yet its vapor would drift on to proliferate

Elsewhere, down in the wash

Unseen lapping waves
Urging me back to Obrenone
Proof that removal of sense
Cannot take away the truth of it

Where one is one as crescent to cup
Question stars arrange to fill the moon
All answers reveal and be revealed

Layers, as they fall away
Fascia, as linens, changed
Of pacts not once unmade
The first oath kept to the final grace

Getting back, even if made to crawl back,
However intact
To Obrenone

You and I, assimilated
You and I, assimilated


-Gary VanConant