Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
brandychanning Nov 2023
the sol and solitude
scalpel~dissect layers of tissue,
marrows of nuclei separate,
the warming is discomforting

dismayed and dissuaded,
cannot be in two places,
either/or/or simultaneous,
my centerpiece is a-kilter

wavering and waving,
my balance is mis-weighted,
teetering and tottering, in a land
lightly and thickly discriminating

between bodies and disembodiment
I am neither
I am both,
I am invisible
to eyes that are shut by
obstructions of
Story Jul 2018
The shockwave hits your throat
so fierce, it forces your own voice
from your own body.
The momentum it contains, unconstrained
by your silent spectre
rushes forward like thunder
into the levee of your knees, and strikes
the way lightning fells trees.
You're nothing but lymphnodes, flood
and weight, now.
The rest, like last night's dream
washing away the moment before you remember.
The aftershocks ripple like echoes,
capsaicin in the nerves
of all your timber limbs
dismantled and thrown to the horizon.
You hover above
what it felt like
to exist.
It rests on the tip of your tongue, a moment.
Nobody really knows the difference between
a moment and eternity.
Below the folds of water, sweat and skin
the ground is offering whispers
bubbling soggy underfoot.
They might be yours.
They say it comes from the ground up
Channels reaching channels to connect
in a flash
a crack
to body
if only
a moment.

— The End —