And Awake
This is me, laughable
A slight cackle from a broken throat
Dry as Egypt's ageless dust and catching
On the flaming cottons of dead haberdashery
I caught a glimpse of moon
Eyes capsized under distilleries
A forehead clouded in snow drops dripping like rain
I dreamt of many splendid things
No, I didn't; I mock the most of all
My neck is sore and red like first time loves
The heat is stifling and I am burning your tongue
The face in the reservoir, dead slick floating but solid
The rivers wash a black night sky and slowly it emerges
Placed equally, matching my own unknowable incantation
And time again, I am born
Enflamed hollow archives, they see for the first time
Slowly in a moment, my hands touch them catching drips
Spiders crawling all over my not-quite-so cadavar
The thud of the moon and clash of wind
Titan in their endeavours and manoeuvres
Pushing forward as a child, as a child
The black heartless wilderness and rampant wooded soul
Hands to throat, choking and awake, and awake.
Copyright © Nathaniel Köhp | Year Posted 2009
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