theodicy

Seething each ravenous. Shadow unyielding

that as if. Now only. Abyssal that eye

like obsidian only

that eye in which lightning breaks

open. Now only will

open your infinite

question your sighless

horizon of

why without why.

*

Priordawn as if. Each shadow unyieldingly

therein flows into

that therein that there is

still willowing. Watergreen as each word

weeping by which your eyes. Even

your unlike eyes

unlike eyes might now be

made now. To bleed

and bleed

therein. That therein there is.

Andrew Maxwell is from Bucks County, Pennsylvania. His poems have previously appeared in Image, Colorado Review, Lana Turner, and elsewhere.