what if we suspend all contentions to the opposite

reclamation slow of sloughed field endeavour

and cast ourselves in outside place distinctions

dwelling where eyes meet benedictions

not so quitely the sunlight harrasement

a clattering contusion swarms across throat

burrowing admissions deep towards some centre

spinal geometry distilling our impure

endlessly imprisoned in intoxicant perspective

blamelessly awry on corners blindspot persecution

of sicknesses concentrating outward when the inner passes lies

exhaustion of it and ill repair a staggering procession

advancing always but erratic and left in tempers glare

until soothing distance smothers flame

and oxygen is severed

no material is has strength for this nor pleasant word expunge

a corpse upon a shadow that croaks a weary question

unanswerable from these animated cells

keep the pace to the drum that beats out hopeful and regret;

what if we discover the past cannot be undone?

the taste of joy a lingering one and all happiness commanding

disbelief that what is gone is now defunct


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