Redirecting

A new north
according to
our broken hiking poles.

These tolls
bell our hands,
ringing these fragile fingers

with unpayable costs. 
That's why we flip-switched
these previously golden magnets.

We could not afford
the previous directions
and so we did not go.

Remind me of that story
of the hunt for a set of keys
only where light already let.

There need not be 
great conviction 
to find the great restriction.

It was limits
we were looking for,
in the hills of arduous freedom.

Liquid liquid
smoked us up
until we froze and sank.

The bottom of the empty;
this is what we speak
and learn and learn and learn

to seek.