Close to the Hypotenuse

the saboteur in her panties whispers up her spine. her flesh like chewing gum. her thoughts like candy. 

time slouches onward. a maddening repetition. want. have. lose. frivolous puppets gnawing on their strings. desperate for freedom. oblivious to the consequences. when we dance. when we laugh. it's already too late.

life wheezes through us. a bitter friction. dying with each moment lived. the sandpaper of touch smooths the surface. we are close. or once were. like stories written. fiction. like time machines. theories. speculation. perilous gods and treacherous angels. flooding the future. because everything else is lost. or too far away.

it's not like we agreed on what would come next. paper in the fireplace. the ink still wet. skin on the floor. wears the dirt in daggers. eyes on the walls. swallow sight in stabs. every hour has teeth. every year has claws. life consumes us.  these bones merely a staple in the corner of a stack of could have beens.

carcasses in need of teeth. to puncture. what remains. that's all that there ever really was. the punch of now. weak, but sharp. a determined treble. the rumble of bass. a reluctant surrender. no music. just sound.