Black Hole Love
grab your pail, we'll clean the sea
fetch a comb to coiff the sand
don't fall for burning cities, to be
eternalized
as a pinnacle of table salt
pinch me, porfa!
looking up/down—that's insurance
perilous looking back
psychics looking forward
pronouncing words
over tomorrow's world
should you be dissolved
by hands
furious at future-telling feats
well, you would have seen it coming...
stay simple
pick peppers
plant cotton
gin it
for reason
latent scars from childhood rashes
gore marks from hell's boar
love borrows
until you're vexed, next blue
how to hold love
comprehend it
neuter it
before panthers
track and eat your tears
extinguish glimpses
of stars, rays, and beams
and death, ghostsongs, stones
become fabrics of a seamless void
traffic runs past the burial ridge along my way
but I went slow this commute
appearing to me was myself
a cameo in crying fields
wearing pails, combs, spades, and boots
an element of wind stirred icy, traceless
talking in the sense of men asleep
said some things couldn't be offered:
dust bunny hearts
no photographs
no epitaphs
no salt
Copyright © Trina Layne | Year Posted 2025
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