It was called the Honesty Of Life.
Like window panes shattered free.
Blasts of glass shards dusted in the breeze.
Mouths open with expectant tongues -
Waiting for sharpened snowflakes.
When it was all said and done
You could stand in the opened room
With the comforting hug of cross-drafts
Coming from all angles.
All angels.
It could drop you to kneel.
Blood tears and blood spit.
Blood tongues and blood knees.
Born again. Pulled into arms.
And lifted to your feet again.
Corrosion to the truth.
