… of sovereignty.

By J. K. McDowell

September 2013

The shift is subtle, the liquor clouds as the

Distilled herbs bloom in the presence of cool waters.

Slow sips contemplate the strong lingering tastes.

I suppose we fear that the annihilation

Will be incomplete.  A fragment alone – even the

Best of me left behind, might feel abandoned.

Two months is not a long absence.  The fondness

Remains but no desire for the precious

Excesses of our previous relationship.

I have heard said, “The desert is an ocean…”

So is that the mystery, the attraction?

Only swimmers on this cave ceiling, mark the lost waters.

A noetic archeologist has ardent

Regard for the creative spirit.  Jim, there are

Always quiet letters lost in the mail.

Writing in darkness, the pen scratches out sharp

Desires at a distance.  In the true dissolution

Of boundaries there is no loss of sovereignty.