Grace Kim

We write like some sort of monster

— Originally published in print // Permalink

We write like some sort of monster,
shade of the wet
caverns beneath us,

grinning imperceptibly
up at us,
patient, patient as time
in its humor.

We stalk the groundswell
above impatiently. Birds fly
out from the caverns – we hunt them.

We grasp them in our mouths
until they bleed their wisdom
out for us.

We write like monstrous shadows
moving frantic while
runestones in the caverns lie.

God does not know us,
God does not know us,
God does not know us, but
God alone knows us,
in our dust.