Etched lines of flesh
funneling the crimson, streaming lethe,
drops, dropping in cornered squares
I found myself on the wrong side
of this salt line, lost, as the air divides
like shutters in a strong wind ripping
up shingles flapping like flailing guls
and then up it rose,
and the thunder spoke;
~
Oui. Je ai beaucoup d'yeux. Elles saignent dans les anneaux de fil.
Ja. Ich habe das Fleisch von den Fangen der Nacht zog
~
The band of light constricting breath tarnished
and flecks of rust fell like ash flakes in a burning dream
sacrificing Endemon
for the formless creep, creep out of the darkness
from the cracked closet light
-the between- the boarders slide
around like fridge magnets under a pointed,
invisible finger, pushing through a liquid mirror;
the firmaments swirl and blaze
I feel it searing down my throat, snakes writhing
in a pit
venomous seething streams blister and bloat
as eyes roll back to yellow white
I can feel the blithe demonic chords twining around my own;
one million paper cuts notch sallow veins
vochals tremble and refract as splintered sounds
roiling from my boiling guts
and then release,
into the raw, sore, pink dust
CZYTASZ
Confusion in Underground Clouds
PoezjaThis is a collection of assorted poems, detailing one consciousness extending and swirling into another, and another, and another.