I push into you
and out of me
like a bead suspended
in the middle of a string
I have dipped into the
forbidden dimensions
of time and space

A pendulum swinging across
my celestial consciousness
I descend into the arms of the
wormhole catacomb

What is it you ask of me?
can this tension
be a failure of sight
or the strain of a thousand eyes
baring down
on my ineffable
being

Let me be marked
by the charcoal of night’s hand
let these lines be blurred
into a smudge of fury
let me find form
in this
fading
let my dysmorphic
delusions
die with each quivering
breath