raze the whitebox

The closer I got to the reconstruction

the farther she got

In a way I found what I was after

Not the truth but the way the truth makes us respond

But then the truth is the way we respond

Myself to the ground I followed the line

Every lovely curve

To every abrupt change

The lesson was in the way

I had to shift to fall into the groove

On time nestled

another split apart

Just as I was a child knowing not when to let up

Things broke and several pieces went a missing

Union came not at the moment

Union is not a definition

Union was the memory there after