so many things wander
in the night of the world - electric
saw of the Hemiptera's wing uncertain
of its path, or a hand like a beast
in the ornate flesh, the sea of
undergarment with its saltine moistness,
limbless lips frittering onto squashed out
softnesses that remember the fervor
of grip or the pleasures of breathing after
the tempest of beings,
so many things in different placements
displacing me here,
savoring the impact just before the crunch of the bone,
down to its last ache between the
gnash of teeth and the miserly space
of cerecloth to a body—
they are many things trundling
in the moment and i am just as much,
yet a passing only, scouring the walls
of graffiti emblazoning abstract unfathomably reachable and misunderstood, lost in ineffable translation — this doting darling
contemplates death and
i understand now, going deeper
as fish sinks into further blue,
wet with something else but water.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC
so many things wander
in the night of the world - electric
saw of the Hemiptera's wing uncertain
of its path, or a hand like a beast
in the ornate flesh, the sea of
undergarment with its saltine moistness,
limbless lips frittering onto squashed out
softnesses that remember the fervor
of grip or the pleasures of breathing after
the tempest of beings,
so many things in different placements
displacing me here,
savoring the impact just before the crunch of the bone,
down to its last ache between the
gnash of teeth and the miserly space
of cerecloth to a body—
they are many things trundling
in the moment and i am just as much,
yet a passing only, scouring the walls
of graffiti emblazoning abstract unfathomably reachable and misunderstood, lost in ineffable translation — this doting darling
contemplates death and
i understand now, going deeper
as fish sinks into further blue,
wet with something else but water.
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