a lack of better words

Not one bit

I feel like a soft poison has entered my body one where I can’t remain where I am now It seems impossible to untwist myself and my hands seem bigger than they were before I am repulsed by the three stark stars on my neighbours porch. A figment pushes out from me, and I feel something  pushing back

The moment right before they sprung into constellations to foretell a fortune or none It was so that I was not, they did it by themselves when nobody could judge them Every night, if I can look up I, thank them for the leap and thank for what is forever 

I can’t help it I find the deep dark undercurrents so boastfully beautiful

when I wasn’t looking you took my wolfskins out of my washing basket sat down on my bed played a song on it like a fiddle  it’s the kind of song that makes me see the big world

last evening as I opened a new door I knew there would be a lull that rang my shadows as a glass bell the door invited my mouth  several teeth, and shards of  old food all those bones in my spine rectified themselves to teach me a lesson to be born anew so unexpected I can’t afford to be lazy again yet what I can afford and how deep I will fall are worlds apart

from a distance I can tell it is a bundle of loose sticks I dare not define as I might start a fire  a miraculous fold of reality I have started to live in remarkably like a real fold  in my bedsheets

on the corner of the street near work there’s a mirror made by an empty shop’s window its reflections, while I’m driving past, always get to me most of the year it balances forces I shouldn’t know but they’re there and so I have to look at them please tell me if you ever see any of them you and I can share those secrets or guess what they mean  

my summerfur has been combed out now I’m lean and monotone better equipped to cut loose ends.  in the distance I can hear different plants grow ripe with secrets and charged by a night sky  I can move like mist through other people’s eyes they don’t need iron armor in an office chair the only spells are the city’s decibels

I call for a tomb within my chest for de-amplifying the sorrow cascading in my skin it can stand tall a proud monument and let it read     “here once was sadness, but as all things, it had to die”

in this mirror image that looked like a theatre  I noticed that I prefer your old reflection all bullet free and exhausting  and how you used to birth coral reefs from your lips for us to swim and make light  I care deeply, and you lay  pennies on my eyes I say I can’t see the tv but your breath is already  bouncing into mine

each day presents itself with the choice to either slay the dragon or the beast within ourselves with neither bringing glory, one could wish to let both consume eachother and carefully pace around shards of the world, broken in the fight