Beacons from Pangaea
Andrew Kerbel
Posted on May 14th, 2014
what haunts me at night when I’m holding him in the rocking chair is the faint glow of a
nightlight from the wall behind us giving rise to shadows of caverns and rifts as I begin to
think that the well acquainted ghosts of a grand lost continent hardly fit back together as I
have had the feeling lately that in time I am more him than he is me because tides of time
erode resemblances and nights like these with his shores settled within these ancestral
crooks and his quivering landscape drifts and presses against mine with guttural gurgles
and tired limbs woven and tangled in amongst familiar shores lofting boundaries higher
toward the heavens these are boundaries like walls that squint to identify another as if
seeing the other before is what it looks like after bodies break free and become unique
against all others when we seek the answers to the mysteries of our blood and callings
because resemblance is only a construction pulling together what might have been or
what never was or what should be in hopes of affirmation to say that I am and he is and
we are because when I pick him up I am picking him up to hold him to listen to his chest
hurling harmonious murmurs the sounds I have come to know and the same respirations
echoed within me and out of me into this room