Remorse

by Daulton Dickey.

How I waft the air and fold it inward
And curl it around your neck:
One eye, one lie, one spider-like twist
Of the blastocyst in time
Impregnating
The clock on the wall
the trembling wall
Then the sounds
like the spectrum
Screaming and spitting color
Splintering it and jabbing it into
The open-faced pigments
Swallowing everything—from the
Walls to the floor to the gaping
Fragments gasping in your cheeks,
And those fragments absorb
every color but red

How the sounds stretch into fluttering
Waves and dissolve into the wall of
Flesh writhing inside you
And those sounds raise creeping
Archipelagos and everything
Collides and uncoils and
The nausea and anxiety twists and
Unnerves you—like the
Ziggurat
Sprouting from your eyes:
The temple doors fling open
And invite the chaos of movement
To marry the perfume of
Anger and sadness, of
Love and despair
And every piece
Disintegrates and reforms

This cannot end:
How the moments freeze and
Unlock and the shimmering
Gray sadness of sleep
Deprivation undulates and shivers
In a ring of opaque anger
And confusion
And eyes slip down and fall
Away and fingers twitch—
The meanings of rings melting into
fingers and slipping into streams
of mechanical impulses that
Slide into the Hippocampus and
Slip away
Monuments twist and
become unhinged
But this no this cannot end

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