Disillusionment

They ran the circle wide, fairy-mouth. Wing speed. 

It ran around the only word possible:

The age of forging peace, the day of dice. 

Which way, which way will I go. 

She had the dream of Artemis, and sung

How floating, travelling, whispering she was.

She was a gypsy open-heart, closed-womb surgery,

Frozen-wide soliloquy. She was reared open.

Finding a soft place to land, they cried for pride,

For disappointment's crushing birth, bloodied legs

From mother, hope. And that is how we crush today:

We hope like a dam in the sun, and we drown instead.

It is the song we've been waiting for: the wounded alive.

The carried-on married one. It is my only one. It is, it is.

And when moon licks sun's surface, puts the light on,

We know. It is there, it is aware. And we don't.