Burials

waiting for the wormhole. prescient clocks. find the end. the void becomes her. nowhere to go. except deeper into the drug. swimming in paths. drowning in places. Her monsters quiet. As she constructs their cages.

Her flesh loud with a parliament of despots and slaves. the turgid democracy of touch. so sharp with the brevity of when. so tender with the urgency of if.

Paper cuts.

Shallow wounds. Deep below the surface.

the wormhole closes. swallows. her panic becomes her. she welcomes the flood. the simple math of surrender. groping darkness. the whispering grey that surrounds it. unwilling to listen.

strangers in her skin. digging their way out.