Choices. Sad dominoes. Tumble toward. Obvious hysterics. Close the door. Start up the machine. The motor. In strips of velvet underwear. The portal. In the shadows on her stare.
The window. Weak partition. Dividing this world and the next. Jump. Test gravity. Determine it has failed us again. Too many forces. Stretches as stockings across the skin. The little in the choice. The big in the difference.
The wolf in its iron lung still threatening to blow me down. The piglets in their ramshackle houses. All the more afraid of nothing.
The sky out there. Like heavy sediment underfoot. As I wrestle against the physics. Of small men.
To know that we are sick isn't enough to make us better. To know that gravity is weak is not enough to break the fall.
Compelled by the disease. There's nothing I wouldn't do to please it.
Friday
1/22/2010 12:27:00 AM
Post a Comment