JulyPoWriMo 4

The sight of her eyes when the light breaks in
And everything gone before rises up
To meet the new road not already told
By voices dancing in light and shadow
Intermittent percussionists scratching
New verse into worn grooves flesh into text
Intersecting with the fourth wall gone out
Going through the unimaginable
The tragedy of silence is in spite
Of the words trapped inside this wooden frame
They branch out like family trees grown up
There is a double meaning to this name
She will be the one who tells your story
So as you live and die listen closely—