Inner Critic
︎︎︎ KL Fohn
︎ Apr 5, 2026
My touch would not,
as you suggest,
cause withering
of word or bloom or
brilliance, I insist.
Why then do you
imply such ruin
and why do I respond
in kind,
afraid to move
or seek the more
these wonders I adore?
What horrors might I
cause with my approach
if not the deft uplifting of
a corner of the cloak?
Might you be
the drummings of the age,
the heavy, thudding
lockstep of the times?
No, not just these,
but centuries long past
and even to the well
before time’s passing was
perceived.
Perhaps, this permutation of
your voice is but another
braying of the herd,
defense against the coming of
the christ.
as you suggest,
cause withering
of word or bloom or
brilliance, I insist.
Why then do you
imply such ruin
and why do I respond
in kind,
afraid to move
or seek the more
these wonders I adore?
What horrors might I
cause with my approach
if not the deft uplifting of
a corner of the cloak?
Might you be
the drummings of the age,
the heavy, thudding
lockstep of the times?
No, not just these,
but centuries long past
and even to the well
before time’s passing was
perceived.
Perhaps, this permutation of
your voice is but another
braying of the herd,
defense against the coming of
the christ.
KL Fohn is a writer living in the Pacific Northwest.