a ball chain clean ******* through my ankle-
a wonderful adornment
the metal links shiver a little when i fill space with sigils evincing the idea that it’s truly something typical:
a startlingly regular solution of ills, and the surgeons behind my solar plexus use it as an antiseptic.

when they begin their operation,
i wish i could show you

how i hear the reiteration of a phrase and its abandonment, for the fear of value & memory being coupled in a denouement
how i see a series of mesas change a steppe, staggered and stair-like, descending towards an absolute.