Succulent limbs in a fish tank dwell on the thought of you, yearning for something else.
A pomegranate heartbeat in a sea of seeds under our bed- sometimes, in the quiet of a black sky, I hear it beat.
I stand up and the seeds spill out of my mouth, like a song for unrequited love and clog up the sink.
Starless skies look at me and I stare back—
Citrus hearts and rotting leaves mold into my chest—
I crack it open like a geode stone.
Blue light shines against my face, like a moth flying into an insect light trap.
Carnivore plants bite my fingers like piranhas in a pond, like your hand in mine.
I sigh.
Orange mirrors open a portal into the unknown abyss of the other side and I step through.
I wander looking for comfort, for answers.
For something that feels like my grandmother's lap and the first hit of a cigarette.
I dwell in the sewers and run through the forest, I wander through the mist like a lost child.
I seek for something I don't know, dirty shoes and calloused hands.
I seek the rendezvous of my mind.
(Rendezvous for the mind, I wander.)
