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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #1303283
A consideration of momentary existance

Yesterday’s novelties drown in time
Tomorrow’s worries threaten:

Future, present, past
The intersection takes place

The dying meet the freshly born; feet first into an unravelling reel

Remember what is gone
Hope it may come again
What is vintage is
Anew breath of stale air left by lungs of breathers past

Feet to stomach
Weeks to months
The deceased move on
A new collection is writ
Between time’s sheets

The sleep is uneasy
Though sexuality can be great
The next day’s death tickles dead hairs
That stand at the touch.

Body is touched, Hair is moved
Today is lived, Tomorrow comes soon


Between the sheets
My pen bleeds blue
Enjoying interstitionality
And wondering what to do.
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