Succumb
Swallow
let it all in, let it
grip your breath, keep it still, keep it in, let it surround
you like mushroom dirt, sweet and wrong, like chloroform masks,
or the physics of a mob, or salmon creeping cold veins. Swallow, again,
let it all in, boxed in larynx, caged in ribs, lungs in the work of succumb,
abuterol hope dissipating, the noise of living -a rasp and choke on the way down. Wait. Slam shut like a refrigerator door. Gulp,till you forget your own name,the reasons for your birth, what they call you as you leave a room,what they all have
you believe about love, your elastic skin,vagabond tongue, epiglottis drunk and full of nonsense. What you thought you knew about breath in a line. Give way,lean,succumb.
Jane Alberdeston
Ay Jane,that's not how I see love, but I guess it is for some...pout, pout.
ReplyDeleteOh my goodness. I am in shock! This was utterly phenomenal and beautiful. I hope I am not bveing too intrusive in your work, Jane, but could you possibly describe the scenario to affirm what my mind may have concocted (hopefully, my mind is deeper in the gutter than it should be! =/). Whatever you choose to do, it was fantastic work nonetheless. A foreboding hopelessness eerily echoes throughout, especially toward the end, and the gut-wrenching description only serves to attest the melancholy undertone, as in "your elastic skin, vagabond tongue." BEAUTIFUL WORK!!!
ReplyDelete