When a belief is Devoid of love Then… We must question how A belief is loved Lest its passion Confuses conviction…. With hate....
There have been times the rain abandoned me, Even though, the caress of clouds will always return I remember running in the forest, as I do now, after the rain The leaves left my clothing soaked.
The floor is so cold tonight
The dust scurries, moves, hides My palm takes the pulse of linoleum Wax, dirt, desire, finish, surface, sealer Remnants of shine, all but a bug skeleton speck We were the warmth, the life, struggle, the stumble Laying here, cold floor moved into heat, a ghost sheen I turn my palm upwards, as if to control something gone Wasn’t the air the heaviest that night? It pressed us down What we left is now unlocked—floorless space, — abandoned.... The floor is so cold tonight As if it has misplaced the words My spine. I cannot lay flat upon you Your plastic skin has been manufactured Pain was not real, that night, or any other night Only the imprints of our bodies, evaporating quickly Lost all signs, signifiers, meaning and meat, bone and skin We are a candy wrapper skinned sweet, scent of survival absurd We could not stay here, it isn’t ours, it belongs to the larger rooms Tile that mingles, inner juices hold the universe at bay, floor is spinning..... The floor is so cold tonight My feet are getting dirtier, dirtier We cleaned together, clung, to our heavyness I am a crumpled paper, phone number named me Our bodies—gravity, whirled—beneath the skin, floor Sunk, muscle—pushed up, propping my arm upon you We came here for the moments, motions, our starving plans Pieces of tile, adhered, adorned, measured, while yet becoming Worlds are found in rooms, they are claws scratching the flooring We remember the feeling of the room, the air, our bodies, the cool, cool, cool, cool |
AuthorThe Author Is Dying From A Common Sickness called LOVE so I guess no need to know about Him... Not That Famous After all..... Archives
September 2016
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