Never settle down in thorny bushes,
though you may be drawn to their
tangled dry weaves, though you may
peek through their lace to rediscover
blue space, though you may feel the
brush that drives you awake, the
rattle that shakes and leaps your
faith, the rustle and whisper
for which you find you open
your endless ears.
It will prickle to stay still,
it will sting to move and it will tear
to fly away.
I'm fascinated by the use of rhyme here, in a piece that looks almost like prose. The imagery is very strong, representing a difficult relationship, and the conclusion is painful (in a variety of ways!).