「 ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ-ꜰᴏᴜʀ / intricacies 」

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existing

is all we know how.

sworn to the fingers racing on our wall

might as well adorn mine 

with a golden cuff.

loaded in the rear

of that grey volkswagen

is all we remember

/

i am embryonic

warmed by blankets — leaves, the first coat

carried across the rain

exhaust fumes.

/

existing —

i was born for it.

yellow lights — fireflies, neon pipes

gleaming wire fence, 80 watts.

and to put an end there

80 watts to infinite, the stars above our gutter.

/

crawling

like bullets, mitosis

i become his ivory notes

rocked against an aging tide.

/

from beneath my skin

magma rises and breaks silence

or does it but stretch it?

in fire's wake, vegetation —

rich, ebon soil

gem veins underneath

still, i am embryonic.

/

but i digress.

i am his notes

i drift apart to see a lighthouse

i hope the watcher enjoys my sound.

/

the volkswagen — i remember it only in sketch

it reeked of curiosity.

chasing our headlights down a yellowish gray

the driver's gaze on the tunnel's end

every day.

i've tried the wheel but i fell asleep

is he never tired?

i know the answer — or course, i have seen

him pieced back together, after, after,

he is my father, after all.

/

but don't you ever wonder, worthless son

what you look like from the outside in?

the gutter from the stars

the rain over the tunnel

the flame in your lighthouse

/

return home from your quest, seed.

the black box is a universe

a veil of stars

obscuring our mother with her scythe

from our headlights

and they'd whisper and chant

drop a floral wreath by my merry bonfire

like an act of sorts, a cult-feast with tears

like damn it, i just want to see

the stars, her eyes on mine

i have wondered often what color they are —

like whether i get that present

i fall asleep dreaming of

for a whole year

/

call it death,

the soft long night

to look to

as i did birthdays.

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