A zeppelin perches in my gut.
heavy air balloon bubbles up at the top
it is at its stop.
numbing.

the bottom atrium holds rushing footsteps- stubbornly colliding.
and before my closed eyes in the blackness of the mind-winded by the whitest of frost-white flower flash cards deal and conceal the emptiness of snip off eyes.
stinking flies lonely in their lives, barraged by their sticky snaggy wings
they draw sharp daggers, pinning sorrow on to my breath.
my mouth thirsty for salty blue water lies
hungry for the breath of another kind-
shadows of tuberoses on hot mornings
pipe dreams and pies in the sky