ensuring the memories were tightly braided, i let them sink into the sand of my mind--
Deep inside, i'll know the color and the sound but Cerebrus only wants to breathe a better Now
no hippocampal fire will stir me to a conflagration-- but they will come to swell my guts and lean their heavy stones on my pen!
their heaviness infects the ink and presses down the paper
so sink deeper into my veins, you crazy totem-knot shapes and scents, places and songs,
Faces--
away from my nervous fingers whose ceaseless twisting frays the cord.
you're better at rest and inside, and stick to your tragic clashes of color. or will i forget i'm a villain? and weave new reds and blues into this sad, sad story...? No, i'll come loose to you like i should like you're saying, this is how it was always meant to be.