upon a memory … the lifespan of the
insignificant. the dirt being existence, mud walking, more filth in motion. i
speak about self, take no offense, i’ve crossed this road before.
pooling for rent, only seventeen,
each day the last opportunity. at the Gatekeeper, asking unanswerable questions.
the prediction was death, something
inside, some force, intervened.
i might kneel into a dimension,
cover a friend with a blanket, rearrange my pupils; been at it so long,
slanging where father slung, greeting where mother sung, eating where granny
dined.
it’s just a feeling; it all feels
familiar, like spirits, like floating, like seeing a person, and knowing a
name. astrology has a notion, esoteria speaks to it, i imagine so many souls,
so many spirits, were subject to meeting again.
the demarcation is in psyches. i
smile it off. keep it silent. passed by with a notion. the New Kingdom, a space
children are born in—back to classification.
so close, so attuned, it took a
split to get that close.
into a memory. the lifespan of the
insignificant. the dirt being existence—more at zoology and botanicals, all
life forces—much anything is made ontic.
feeling like a puppet at moments.
we must soon see the glowing, flickering portrait—pieces moving, humans are
pieces, often made insignificant, once a paradox, we adore humans.
to love so dearly, it churns; to
adore so much, i hurt another; to have such passion, i deny a person their
rights. if to utilize another, it must be done, we speculate about the
boundaries.
upon a memory, an older pitfall,
reminiscing about a cigarette. a shorter moment, a few years’ moment. much is
taken to heart.
