an allegory of an incongruence of negatives and positives how everything seemed configured in a way to be a gridlock
air moves gently north into my right ear the power outage came, work is white and hell, i ran until i was dripping with sweat walking up the usual 5 flights but in pitch black thought about the northeast blackout of 2003 how orange and infernal i laid in cold water running in the bathtub when the power came back later today it rained softly and then with whatever amount of intensity one could personify with rage or catharsis or whatever all i ever say is how pretty how pretty
but i do remember everything, defiantly. cruelly the main way to know from up or down in avalanching flood
and i would never allow it to be about my want, a dust mote's want. i'd lay down as a boardwalk over the hole in the ground, if it meant to know a people more than my self; a meaningless little thing crushed into a shape by some confused and luxurious crisis of a malevolent house of mirrors how decadent to stare back at ourselves through something shattered and polished with our blood! it's an age-old way to know nothing
brief and sudden rainfall turned our rooms a gentle ocean's green, i swear i smell the sea in wind the days i try in little sharded shells of sleep and pangs from a weighing sky when i spend time to speak a firefly's amount i've left over