Magma

Magma

I’ve made it to eighteen leagues underwater Climbing higher But drowning beneath mountains

Breathing is dead to me Lungs accept only air And you provide only gravel

There’s not a noose long enough to dip its knot this low So my spindle claws can grasp its fray Seize its mass, and palpate over its bristles

Gravel cares not who I am It assuages stomach and throat with streams of dawny pills To alter my sense of color

But even under miles of quartzite Coarse amethyst Fractured glitz of oppressive perception

The surface of this ocean’s glassy clear I haven’t seen the sky But I know it’s evening hue is made for me

Externalization is the ongoing outpouring of human being into the world.

Peter Berger, The Sacred Canopy

When my heart is faint, lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

Psalm 61:2

Remember also that the sun is a star.

@mistixs

Episode

Gazing coolly back Flattened eyes to flattened mirror Six steps, fifteen feet To the mattress Ninety degrees, reverse Thin quilted cover over Thin skin over Thin blood in a Thin heart beating One Two Three

H2O means water and O means oxygen And chemical bonds keep Numbers and figures In order and propriety While reactive compounds Scrimmage in cranial nooks Thinner than 37,000 feet

Cannons of yesterday are memory’s wares To reinforce serotonin’s last stand Amygdala Armada is taking heavy losses Five in seven out Thirteen minutes till 3 Means time to prepare the funeral pyre

Tailor Kleenex’s surrender flag in tow Aching eye sockets open shut raise it high And in one last rebellion Fill the stark white dusty face With lacrimal floods, Crumple up And let gravity arrest it into forgetful cellophane

Noticing I’m short on flint The pyre is postponed and Reverse, ninety degrees Deep breath in breath out Apathy allows the sitting silence To shutter the restless eyes And drag themselves to slumber’s lair

The sequel will be better.