for DM

crooked cryptic codes

slip into elliptical slick discs

each weft, wove into a word

and a solemn solar hum.

awash in blue

it’s fluid, the sex, it’s fluid,

and it flows down the inside of my leg.

I’ve ruptured and come and opened

and kept nothing inside.

I realised, finally, that it’s absurd,

the keeping, the conserving…

of what?

secrets, a dark little space saved for myself

got sold to me, got cold and airy

i built it, i crush it,

and write a new chapter every night.

it’s a road descending, each ashen ending,

and i can fry, submerge.

“what are you holding back?”

it’s nothing, it’s nothing

so: part, fissure, purge.

crack, tumble, tear this.

it’s a soliliquy to blackness,

the unfamiliar changes

the unforgiving changes.

that ignore stasis, no heed.

that heap, the junk mountain

to be interfered with, de-structured

pull out a nook, another, a joint unstable

it’s time to witness

no order

no sense

just the absolute

and unknown

push, tug, lift and uncover

the layers and layers and layers.

~ by annavo on xxx.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: