“Words Waiting For a Place” has also to do with lines, lines of demarcation. It demonstrates a keen understanding of the natures of the beast. E.g., “And words waiting for a place/ Out here on the edge like blunt instruments of harm.”
—C.S. Giscombe
There is a space where ardent waves converge
And you and I come crashing
Wary of the lines that mark the boundaries of our willingness
Like traces of a distant architecture
That we can neither forget nor rebuild
Eclipsing reasons revealing a Genesis
Of unknown territories
And words waiting for a place
Out here on the edge like blunt instruments of harm
Or cherished talismans of healing and limited reward
Washed upon glad shores
We stare from the precipice with misguided longing
Safe as houses, but just out of reach
Of what we came for
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