(we rest on the silverslicked knife edge until time ends.)
mess to the left and to the right. the gentle echo of pattering rain on glass. further down the street, a gushing pipe bursts. the window is pulled closed, glossing over the leaky puddle of rain on the sill. still air reeks […]
this cold will always prevail through and through
back twisted and rootwise, soiling the hours held
precariously, our earthbound slips and starts
buried in the deep hush below
if this is your disquiet
if here is where the start ends and the end begins
then bleed until drip-dry
a sonorific slip of torqued tongue
no matter the distance, the shadows keep chase.
no warmth, no life, a frozen and slipperly pucked pole to climb
to watch dust settle over seconds
from all the items
all we’ve ever lost
get far away. go miles once more.
(distance equals space times time?)
don’t ever forget
je suis un bastarde
more than i hasten to remember to forget once more
shut, shut up.
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