in the face of this

it meets us now by a soiled stream of other nothings.

having travelled from the sewn eyes and mouths of the obedient, uninvolved,
it fills its hand with our necks and swallows our pulse.
it demands i feel both no more than invisible and no less than the grip that invades my skin.

how it discolours my tongue.
“silence. how?” i say.

how it reddens my eyes.
“silence. you try to take too much” i warn.

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s