By Don Lawrence
Editor's Note: This is a piece created by a Fort Lyon resident in one of our creative writing classes led by writer-in-residence Kathy Conde last fall.
I've been here before, not seen, even less heard, trying to flee, seized with a paralysis of curiosity, intrigued. Funny how some pursue a kiss from death, rather than admit defeat, this time I up the ante—I’m all in, Hearts lead on this hand—Stay woke—be conscious, no need to redefine, the dialogue of this day—so "cliché" my happiness? Well it's all a lie... Potential energy is easily made kinetic, her vibrations—movements. Hers is energy that won’t be ignored, the intensity...reverberations that would pulsate from the ocean's floor…such a seduction with words—words that manifest from thoughts, thoughts so swift the naked eye can’t detect a frequency—choose your weaponry wisely! A physical frame that is a marvel, to be celebrated—applauded, as if thunder jolted the land after the lightning, I was pricked by the thorn from a rose that broke the skin—Attempting to walk this tight rope, with no feet, we don't speak the same language, but I bear witness—the sun—the time—the moon—the stars, all dance to your tune...I want to keep this blessing for myself—I don't know why, outline your name in the sky, the rush—my high...my creator would not author such confusion, or is this mental fusion an illusion? I seek an antidote for the kiss from the black widow—I require her serum, but the signs, and the science are heavily guarded by other culprits...my starship departs here, I don't want to time travel anymore, I NEED to be here—this mission—is a retransmission 93 million miles away from, came ONE, more than a movement—a migration, a representation of ONE...peace and light...
