partially

I.

She over hears

And scampers under

Sheets wasting letters

And certainly points

But never time

Part jeer and jester

Snide leering from which

We wound and fester sometimes

They say pride hurts the most but

most of the time we don't have time to  fall we keep pressing on

because there's not a damn thing else to do.

II.

On the isle they were stoned with fury and the wind.

 The young man and the dead.

 At certain points they merely whispered.

 While at others there was a deafening roar.

He would hear it everywhere. In the cemeteries

In the trees at night. She called it a breeze from heaven.

A decade later she would be dead like the father

She said had sent the wind because of how fiercely it

Would whip around the headstone unsettling dust

And entombed emotions

III.  

 In the space before time it knew only itself.

 Time gave shape a new form of knowing.

 Purpose. A link between all possibilities.

 In infinity all choices reached an eventual repetition.

So easy to look back on it now.

Did you know that

 In infinity you can scream forever?

A word is time in symbols,

fragmented for the holding onto   

A fragile relationship between words and

silence where some words had been

 others could not go.

Where time had once existed only words remained.