Retrospective in Spiralling
Tasting that edge on the sight line of now
And so ends a crawl from one day well into the next with eyes wide open, a neck dead from weight and the wasting away of muscles and fibre. On the long haul of thirty six and some, hours all phase so easily into each other when the absence of hands on the wall stare ever present. Taking the slow drawl of the morning and sliding it into the wee hours of the night and next morning. There it looks back with an increasing pulse of paranoia and possible dementia.
Synapses slow with fingers tripping over themselves, looking only backward and behind while jumping forward with a case of determination. On the roll around with a cool night air, freezing is the temperature over the fence at the twenty four.
Back on the twenty and the look into the dew of morning spots a massive shot of perspective. Looking only to hide a fact of fear, there one second, gone the next.
Swinging wildly back down on twenty eight, speech loses itself of all composure, of all cohesion and the effects affect the entirety with a comical dance of relief. One where the hands are up high in the air singing the praises of coconut shavings and the sickening pool of olive oil at the bottom of the bowl.
Dr Pepper drops by for a short visit. Only there to settle a nerve and leave again like the good doctor knows to do. Enough to calm the nerves, not quite enough to slam down the shady walk right into the end.
Taking pause, lips and throat strangle each other on the attempt to converse with the future and ever solid present. Deaf and blind is the root of this, looking back is so hard to do when there are many holes in the sky. Holes which lead to alternate realities where hurt is nothing more than a man of the elephants.
Down off the ring with a swing over thirty six hours and creeping into that of thirty seven, time for a rest. After all this. After all this and every day.
Reset to hope.
Soon Van - Tuesday, May 8, 2007 - 00:03
Thoughts...
*Optional and not kept. Read the privacy policy for more.
Latest from Spiralling
- Touch down and ready to bounce
- Scrambling eggs and packing fragile items
- Crossing light from a day of night
- Field reports state otherwise on existence
- Bloody trail to the bank
- One simple answer
