glycerine air soaked couldn’t imagine contact
It was meant to be
just a spell with slight application of the will the bus holds the weather

drips neon and suspends the instincts just enough for mutual safety
its medium : jet soft glisten and clumps of gel-like wrack night

silver : rain crackles in smears of street
sodden : diesel smudges muffle the sinus

and solidify
retinal field mapping
i am at a loss

with glass vision frosting over and underslept
with this focus you couldn’t be

anyone else and the wet path is possibilities
or you are : solidity and fabric

a heaviness excluding in response to liquid breaths
could reach the world behind and share
possession with the miracle of your softening eyes


First published in the Black Market Re-View.