Coral Hull: Poetry: Rose Street Archeology: Green Hexagons

I MACKENZIE KNIGHT I A CHILD OF WRATH A GOD OF LOVE I FALLEN ANGELS EXPOSED I

CORAL HULL: ROSE STREET ARCHEOLOGY
GREEN HEXAGONS

i have been described by you as 'complex', for example, we could say, that the sun was very bright, or that it was glary outside, but for me it was that i wiped a piece of sun from my eye, or that a green hexagon appeared in front of me after looking into the sun, that it dropped down to the floor & i followed it down with my eyes & it followed my eyes, as a result my mood dropped into the carpet as the green hexagon dropped down behind the lounge, it was like a small sun had set between us, then it rose & followed my eyes back up along the line of your face, soon it was stuck fast to your cheek, i was reluctant to blink, but felt you being uncomfortable & that you were about to turn away, to reach for the matches, or make a cup of coffee, or to go out for a smoke, or pat the dog, oh but what this meant to me, i closed my eyes & the hexagon became infra-green, on the black rim of the black cup of what i was seeing inside my eye, an immense emotion shot through the great cavity of my heart, that in its great incapacity, was heavy & down-loading, pinning me physically to the squashy lounge, where the springs had gone missing into the floor, as you stood up i felt myself dropping lower in comparison, the floor springing up beneath your feet, as you travelled two feet away, the square shoulders of your very tacky coat, the textile patches & pieces of solid paint, your silken hair in waves parted in the middle at the back of your head, & your forehead reaching out in front, soon you were in the light of the open doorway, blowing your nose into a tissue & i had never felt so low, many green hexagons began to drop & lift as my eyes lifted & dropped, soon they were pouring into the carpet like snowflakes, obviously green, in comparison to the long orange drapes in the living room, that were also dropping, soon i was being snowed upon, green hexagons disappearing into the skin of my legs & arms as i watched them dropping into my bloodstream, my boundaries had also dropped to accommodate the hexagons, i became lonely in a way, accepting that we could not disappear into each other's skin, that you could not float down into mine for a moment & be submerged there, that you could not follow my eyes down to where i wanted you, for although my eyes had dropped with all the hexagons following them, you had got up to go & you spoke of your confusion, what a strange monolith you are, you do everything independently & do not follow my eyes into the carpet or up to the ceiling, you have described me as a complex person, but i have simply had the sun in my eyes & the company of hexagons since childhood, where on my back i learnt to control their rise & fall, lying on a trampoline, facing the summer sky straight from the pool, where all the hexagons had been blue, swimming in my eyes that were bathed in light, what a stranger you are, entering my loungeroom like a mountain, or is it that the sun has passed across the skylight in a certain way & now the mountain of you has become apparent, the light dappling on your crooked ridges that have always been there, now you have allowed me your back, i speak to your giant old presence as restful as rock, you are just a big pile of dirt on your own, i am sun-blind, the controller of hexagons

    

This website is part of my personal testimony that has been guided by The Holy Spirit and written in Jesus' name.

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