there are places that seem innocent,
time and meanings, that seem like nothing,
like, who ever thought
that forever could hinge
on such a simple act
as when david chose to cool himself
upon that rooftop,
and bathsheba choosing that moment
to bathe herself…

we have grown accustomed
to pushing our limits,
extending our boundaries…
from babel to titanic,
challenging the heavens,
shattering ourselves upon its walls…

until the final commission,
all crossroads are harmless,
but what moth could resist
the tease of the flame,
and what iron bar thinks not
that it could take one step further
and still stay free from a magnet’s clutch?

crossroads have always been
the birthplace
of heroes, and of villains…

which am i?
and which are you?


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