A King of Infinite Space

[Todd]

In this place there is no light
passing through these windows.

In this place words recede
to balance like razor blades on the tongue.

In this place boundaries are important;
a rainbow demarcation of crayons laid end-to-end.

In this place that hates
abstractions; the towers and bulwarks scrape
love and sorrow from the heavens.

In this place I see your tears and know
I should feel
sad?
Hear your words and know
I should turn my head—
even as my mouth forms
syllables—echolalia, the bridge
between our worlds. If only,
my hands weren’t so
fascinating. If only,
sounds didn’t pirouette,
and colors didn’t sketch the sky
in bright calligraphy.

In this place there is no door.

[billy]

i get the feel of an obsessive compulsive mixed with autistic.
the need to say something but the inability to communicate

i'd have thought the first line;
In this place there is no light
and ;
If only,
sounds didn’t pirouette,
and colors didn’t sketch the sky
in bright calligraphy.
would have been at odds normally, but in this poem they work well.
i really like the last six lines in particular.
it shows the how bright a mind can be yet how dark when taken with the first two lines.

and i loved the crayon barrier that shouldn't be crossed.
for some reason i think that part of the poem is i us all. don't we all put up barriers?

if i had a nit. The question mark after sad doesn't do anything for me.
as always thanks for the read Todd.

[Todd]

Billy, thanks for the read and comments. Yeah you nailed it; I was going for an autistic (though my title might push people into thinking it's madness).

Thanks again,

Todd