I took the lower path
Full of pellets, unresolved
To avoid the lighted room under the lake
I remember at first
The tilted blue oceans of the valley
As evening took the color from the weeds
I tried to keep the bread and water face
From showing on the mountain
Many years inside the lighted room
A lacerated grin hung from my jaw
Complicated panes of glass
And passing shoulders locked me in
When I was old enough
I pushed aside a tile
And snaked through the cold muck
Into the vast and brittle day
I took the lower path
Full of pellets, unresolved
And I let the heat from other days
Become my fire