something near me
a thing i can't see: a soft sound
footsteps pattering on the
clotted ground, no
force to quell them all

veins discombobulated -
all things considered? the
modification of my body
to bend to my needs and
terrible desires
may as well be welcomed

the world is a floating point
opened up and split
scattered to the winds
left to its own devices
and us? we are the particulates
that tag along