my lips aren't locked so tight,
I think
and then there my tongue halts
thumbs pressed into porcelain
I only hope to leave an impression;
chock a stick in one cog
of his endlessly certain thought
he will not be wrong -
even when he has been caught
if God himself sent a whisper on my behalf
a whit of my whimpering in the night
those running thoughts might yet drown it out
a quirk of the working mind
time seems of the essence
I have to consider that he'll forget
I dig my nails in
feel them ripping from the bed
I only hope to leave a dent
but it was an imperceptible sin
a shared blemish on agnate skin
though mine grows inward
and outward and on -
like wild root,
shooting off in all sorts of directions
for him, a second obliterates
but I sleep and wake to it
my lips are loosening,
I think
only to take in breath
a forced inhale
the air of his absence
of cognizance
seems emptier
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 7:30 AM UTC
my lips aren't locked so tight,
I think
and then there my tongue halts
thumbs pressed into porcelain
I only hope to leave an impression;
chock a stick in one cog
of his endlessly certain thought
he will not be wrong -
even when he has been caught
if God himself sent a whisper on my behalf
a whit of my whimpering in the night
those running thoughts might yet drown it out
a quirk of the working mind
time seems of the essence
I have to consider that he'll forget
I dig my nails in
feel them ripping from the bed
I only hope to leave a dent
but it was an imperceptible sin
a shared blemish on agnate skin
though mine grows inward
and outward and on -
like wild root,
shooting off in all sorts of directions
for him, a second obliterates
but I sleep and wake to it
my lips are loosening,
I think
only to take in breath
a forced inhale
the air of his absence
of cognizance
seems emptier
a notch in the shutters
a gap in the curtain
I peek in and see nothing
distinctly, I feel it isn't me who is looking
