Tuesday, March 11, 2014

March 11, 2014

There is at first a great reaching motion with a claw at the end of it.
It grasps and grasps, itself a way of grasping, itself a way of grasping something.
There is a weight, there is a wait, there is a waist wasting time away in
carbon self-consuming body.
This weight nestled in claustrophobic chest clutching;
heart decides oxygen won’t be delivered tonight; eyelid signaling, diaphragm drops dead still, viscera wondering, waiting, weighting, reassembling, body drawn
into mass, falls into energy,
turns away from light.

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