screens flame static.
an endless room and you
unable
to hear the fist of ocean in your chest,
the tides that break you
together, apart, together
a part.
no walls but your limbs
and you are closing
in.
there is a scent of anesthetic
frozen in your throat.
the backs of your eyes bloom
sterile light.
you follow yourself down hospital corridors,
your mouth dry
and oxygen
too bright
on your tongue.

your heart is static,
raining down
the panes of your chest.
you are a window
broken open
and the night collapses
endless off your insides.
the taste of dandelion -
a single explosion

of yellow
laughing into tears.
the vibrating bass of your spine
a drowning dance that chokes you
into yourself. falling hard,
breaking skin
and cold metal.
alcohol on a scrape, throat open
raw wordless and the weight of hands
not touching.

absence a tear,
someone else's clothes and
immense numbers,
distances
you cannot close.
the voices of animals and a language
you do not speak,
you are falling
ungainly
through time. metal burns

a fissure. a fever.
the black taste of blood
and static on the radio.
sharp chords and acidic
uncertainty, pouring yourself
into empty spaces,
into not knowing,
into
the crush of salt
under your tongue.
greenbluegray and
lifted. a lattice of light and the weight outside you
inside you.
hands on your ribs force you to breathe
but there are no hands.

drag yourself
to the surface.

broken light
falls
into
your
open
mouth.
the hotcold
split
in your spine.
your body pulls you
back in gasps. you cradle
mud,
push
your fingers
through the dirt.
your tongue
laces seareeds
and silt,
the blue light
breathing
you clean.