here is the scent of eyes openhere is stepping into the stifle of your dark tenement, here is saying through teeth black with wine: "we are the trodden grey cement"-here is wobbling warbling knocking picture frames off fromwalls and deadened marble eyes rolling on floorboardshere is the sound of old caresses aggravating and relegating tofondle kiss a photograph oh no, justfor curiosity of the chemicals' taste-not you-here is sucking too hard on our pulsing thigh-veins and sputtering necks that throbbing alive,here is the taste of life seeping from ligament our brightly decline into blackened filament:a defeated self-acknowledgment a picking up the
together in hushif wind turbines make noise it is not as loud as the earth dying screamingto disrupt the sound of our lips kiss-kissing ladybugs: dying screaming the supersonic flowsends us go woosh and cling to spider thread that stretchesso we weave and string it tighter.since if our anchors to grow us roots and plunge deep like small curious mole noses, burrowand burrow kindly to unearth do-not-blow-away-i say, create our togetherness in taut blue hues, a whirring suspension sound: like windmillsquietly stationary movingand running nowhere: we're moving nowhere but rootedstiff now but learn to sway like boughslike living deaf win