I dragged my feet,
cartography is a theory
internal.
This drift from mud to mud
a cell.
Something lingers
deep and unseen
a thought.
Singular and isolated,
somehow it breaths.
It lives.
If I wait
can anything remain.
Tearing and grinding
Inhaling into
empty vessels
a poignant shudder.
This is more than a test.
I watch
knowing the horror
I embrace it.
Caressing the curvature
tempting savagery.
Dawn is followed by noon
a haze is coming.
Awake to nothing.
I fear death.
logic is deaths critic.
My pulse is weary
venom is coursing now.
Stinging my perspective
I will write back soon,
promise.
I will have much to tell.