Stars replicate in the slumber of frustration
There was a time I could taste the naiveness
It was ivory and whipped, wide eager eyes waiting for a new layer of pipedream
walnut and coffee - an English black bird - rolling eyes in the tube - the pride of the drum in my ears
Now it bleeds in mountains of dirty snow
and it hurts, so deep
precisely as feisty rats bickering, scratching with insane nails my heart.
gagging, cascading
all the love
in salivated bits
all stuck in my sore throat
I don't know how to stomach
the infinite devouring me
as I see my son grow up
as I see my body dying
as I see the world burning
as I try to conceive parallels and timelines and paradoxes and realities
splintering my mind
my mouth,
lo, where it shouldn't be
tasting
ashes and tears
thin streams of the milky way
Too late I realized
it was me
the one t'was
snatching carcasses
from the graveyard in the sky
The fragrant air, so muddy in the shining night
She
Rolling merrily as possessed by salty demons
Licking the long dusk, the grapy dusk
The most inner part of me
In wilderness
As in madness
Tears are whispered
No contempt –
Across the grids
In the fabled tinsmith of my mind
fleeting life, joy, kicks, darkness
not enough night
In the thin drizzle of rain
On the road,
Back to you.
Posts
