I stay several floors up,
blood in the streets
doesn’t touch
me, and my back’s turned
away
from the sun.
I thought I was slick.
I’m rather, what.
(less a living
person, more stuck together
with mud
than bones).
If
anything is holy
in this earth, I submit myself—
submit wholly
the way a pebble submits to water,
the way water smooths it over,
smoothed, shaped,
and un-sighed.
Though
if I stay
still
just so,
this room
will
hide me,
wholly
as I’ve
only known.
May 26
May 26, 2026 at 5:32 AM UTC
I stay several floors up,
blood in the streets
doesn’t touch
me, and my back’s turned
away
from the sun.
I thought I was slick.
I’m rather, what.
(less a living
person, more stuck together
with mud
than bones).
If
anything is holy
in this earth, I submit myself—
submit wholly
the way a pebble submits to water,
the way water smooths it over,
smoothed, shaped,
and un-sighed.
Though
if I stay
still
just so,
this room
will
hide me,
wholly
as I’ve
only known.