since i began to feel these gliding cobwebs
i have no longer endeavored to move. all my strategies
i saw were shills

to the almost-soft things covering me i bargained a prayer
that god destroy those things i can do without
such as whispers, such as bones
leaving still what is meant to sustain a blaze

how can someone destined to immolation
die of suffocation? how can i die? with memory put slowly and slowly in the ground

even now i am swathed in shroud
and i was meant to send you a light
and i was meant to send you a bright light
to speak in a language you would learn to understand
to speak in my voice which cracks like plaster casings
to speak in my soft voice which is gliding out no longer

03/03/2007

Posted on 03/03/2007
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