Saturday, October 18, 2014

Numbers 16: In Writing

Swallowed in your shadow
smothered on your breast

The almost-chosen
pressed and passed
less and more
the space between
the connecting waters
that breaks on your shoals

Stuck between here and there
the all and the me
Are we one
or am I one
can I be the one
alone in your sight?

Gauge out my eyes 
and cast them in
to fill the void gaping 
of is it not enough
It is not enough
It is too much
It is not

Separate from the wind
that moves through all flesh
and let me be
my flesh
cradling to the weight of my carcass
crashing  down
the screaming mouth 

Only me
in the warm moist 

where death eats all away

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