Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Then news arrived



its sheer implausibility chased me across the forest like some hateful spirit. without a sense of 'where to' till my legs gave way. wilderness beyond which nothing. anesthetized by the countless spears of the tiny grass soldiers under my person, i fell. quiet. i prayed desperately for loss of sensation. i am made to subside. Nothing to do, then, but. bide. my. time. closed eyelids did nothing to help. dragging me--by the hair-- back to that nauseating

the chaos within.

i see the big silver sun, is n't. like drops. collected in leaves, like orbs of wet dew, merely warmed by the sun; and not sun herself. she is a million glimmering mirrors instead. web of leaflets overhead. grateful. deeper into the grass, begging for numbness. an insignificant lapse of time. my skull was tightening. the insides of my face an oven. blink

The image persists long after. The sun was a million glimmering mirrors instead. Komorebi, the  hardly-accurately-translatable Japanese phrase comes to mind even as the very glimmering orbs of dew swell then well in my eyes. When I let my eyelids fall some break ranks and charge toward the countless spears of the tiny grass soldiers under my person. Pain that tastes like salt is the worst one of them all.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Legs for Trouble

Late at a friend's, with all that Red
Goodnight kisses. Forehead stroking in absentia. 
Awake in the quietest room.
The party outside are breathing their last.
The raging inside my head will spill out of my ears.
*rinnnnng*
Jump out of my skin.
System Updates
bloodshot eyes spot me: glued
*crickets*
make sure we're okay?
I don't like the rapids!
Must. Not. Stop.
But the light begins to ebb and flow. 
Then my rubbish track record comes to mind.
My thoughts have now clotted entirely.
I roll over to cozy up, but I go and meet ice.
This has been my night.
Enough to ruin eagerly anticipated brunch?
Yes
But
sangria