White noise heavy
in our light hearts.
Static between my pupil
and my iris expanding
to meet our open space.
Touch, one between
another and never
together; I want
to be closer rather
than farther.
Unicellular molecular
structure of ourselves
eating up daylight
in glass—
our artificiality
creates not yet—
our reality,
bright red and soft
intangible tensions—
reality. Relief.
I'd definitely like to do a different draft of this, so this is an initial draft!
No comments:
Post a Comment