Chasms by Trisha De GraciaFrom the outside
working in
this total apathy
this empty glass.
I'm losing ground
and staring at the spaces
you had placed yourself
in Augusts that have felt much closer
once upon a starlight sky.
It's peeling all my skin away
burning up my fingers.
The sanctified martyr of me
this perplexion
I'm swallowing crystalline images
holding your irises deep in my mind
I'm wedging you in between carnal illusions.
Your flesh is deftly defying my grasp
and much to my own
disenchantment
I swallow
abyss. 09/30/2005 Posted on 09/30/2005 Copyright © 2025 Trisha De Gracia
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