A Leak In The Safe

You can’t shoot it you can’t shoot
A thing like that something that
Should have died in my youth a
Charged object of lost innocence
Reflection absorption refraction the
Rustic belle who led me into the woods
With a strange rude tenderness invested
With the light of another world
Untrammeled by the limits of space
And time jarring crazily and yawing
All over

Chaotic within her own system
Sticking to the shadows her
Father’s surviving work of art
Personal but not about her at
The pace caprice demands amid
The trees bright patches of that
Moving bolt of skin she fills
The place with the fluid aura of
Her divine desire and capricious
Demands never just mountains
But the echo of forever