heart sense rolls low, over
the word underworld looking
for entrance, exit, a pivot
or nexus from which kin aesthetics
join in stillness.
reversed bell tone, a shower of glass
returns to amend its shatter.
nervous tic talk-tug in equation pulls
numbers away; feels through categories
where existence holds,
allegorical and transient.
meta-physical pain break
apart the experience. psycho soma
depth perception deep innervated
intervention, inner rubric, so simply
splayed open - nothing substantial.
a beauty born of quiet failures,
undermining history's lock
down in blood and sense-sorry
deprivation.
muscle tone reverberant -
fahrenheit vision - loud
disordered notes not yet
music; brutal boiling clouds
color my joints, rhythms wait
for my long body, angled
release.
releasing rhetoric of loved ones, of love
itself departing. leaving the spurned adorned
with sanity's damning gestures in privacy
against absence of him, of her, of us, of
self, against eros consumed and spat out.
weep easy grace, child held back, wrapped
at throat by umbilical throes to a place before
language, viscous and vicious.
pure - there are no words for this elegant lack -
playing card burning in silence - ash fueled
masks, the script deflates fast - flat.
barbed wire coiled at the top of the fence.
stomped down permafrost,
somatic origins where emotion
begins in very basic knots, squared in
the gut ravel, fibrous, flora scavenged
cells rebuilding, tightening round
electric pulsing impulse.
a healthy heart has no metronome.
variable drop beat, time follows along.
stops. stop the stop watch the
clock, time line lies lay me
low and this timeless moment,
it is
personal.
all I can do is
hold my ground so I've
something tactile and difficult to
let go .
all I can do is begin to ...
a body in motion tends to...
therapeutic intervention exorcise
the pent up ineluctable,
the gut wrench, open
incision, heart murmur surge
ritual in rarified experience.
every nerve root blind to
every rule my psyche lives by
in catch--rattle-clench hesitance.
only this. will lift.
my spirit. to
pivot twist air through its
surface, meeting full
exertion, pushed to
extremities until my
extremities cease
amidst risk and skidding,
perimeters threaten
ejection of self out of body
arrow going, druid
feminine madness spooling moonlight,
criminal in oil, moth in its paradox
loving light from a state invisible to itself,
wings afire while and yet, yearning towards
snake-shed skin to become
more moored in soul.
breath pushed so deep
I no longer breathe;
profound respite beyond
profane need. bruised voice and limb
lost to me, earned in urgency, unaccounted
and I do not stop for any of these until
past exhausted, time comes down, its soft
click pronounced far away and nearly
recalling memory, as if its story tells itself
fresh, like blood still flowing
for moments yet, in the newly dead.
far from this, distant witness to
mind in lightening fading, sparking
talk at itself while i inhale and let
go, just
go -
go to exhale -
breathe
out - expanding the pause between
all pauses.
leaving nothing of self for self
to hold hostage.
