Proxy & Proximity

I know what it's like
I've been that statue
The one made out of heartstone

Standing there waiting for the ice to dry
Quiet light cracking through cold hands

Some wait for the end of the hourglass
When the grains rain out
Too tired to turn over
And start the cycle again

How would we live
Were every tree excised
Taxed from tasting too much sun
Lack of breath on earth

I know what every statue would say
If it could move

I'm lonely and cold

Why else would they be so captured
So solid in their fine forms
If not charged with sin
Forbidden to feel
Fraction of life
The frigid balance

If you put your ear against one
And listen longingly as they do
You'll hear, as if pregnant
A tiny force, struggle against stone
Earthquake in a shell

There's spirit in a statue
Waiting for release
Orgasmic breakthrough
From smooth marble
To silken air
Leftover rubble discarded
For the dreary life we all share

Zombied fruit lacking taste
Stuck in a slapshot slipknot
Grasping for the instant fix
Those apothecary blues
Lubing our minds with glitter and glee

The static cling of hope
A statue's hope ecstatic