SERMUN vv. IV: Platform.
Lance, oh edge, oh platform reigning cold, reign alone, rained tears feign warmth. Feigned hope. Cynicism cyclical trap. Wind blow, wind fro, and to. Calmed among storm. Calming nothingness. Calmed self-hand on shoulder. Touch of my own, touch of nothing-form. What if itâs my last day? Led astray by not-doing. Not-here. Not-now. Not-ever? Not-notting. Knots of doubt. Stumbling. Crippling. Blocking my stream. Itâs free up here. I see clearer, but feel less. The most exposed is the least approachable. Up here, on my island, world of me. Holding the very bridge that got me here, wondering how. Wondering why. Feeling itâs intent, its ingrained fear. Its ridges of panic. Getting down now. Solitude over. Wind hassling me. Pre-me hassling me. Dread within metres, foot now inches, toe now touch. Walking when you have wings.
[DIGITAL ARTWORK, 2025]
âPoem typeset with outlined Lumen Red.â
IMAGE SOURCE: Pole: IMG_IMG_3611.HEIC, Gym support bar, 2025.
IMAGE DESCRIPTION: A portrait artwork depicting longform text in a Red Sans-serif typeface, with Red outlined graphics mainly to the viewerâs right it in the shape of a vertical rectangle, with supporting structures of half-circles underneath dissected by multiple lines. All on a Black background.











