Invisible is how I want to seem,
Never actually seeing myself,
No more than a fragile light beam
Disintegrating dust on the shelf.
Totality of existence counted in pixels
The fewer, the more I feel satisfied.
Frame by fear-filled frame,
Moving backwards to feel more gratified.
Standing in the midst of your presence
Exhaling to the depths of residual air,
That stubbornly stick to my dessicated airsacs
Crying out for moisture.
Would the vaccum of space wither me more?
Shrink-wrap and fold me into a space warp?
Structural integrity as denatured particles
Searching for meaning.
Turning around in a pirouette
Standing on one leg,
Plying my craft as a ballerina
'I am wide as a keg'
Oh dear.
YOU ARE READING
Love and Irritations
PoesiaFacades are a fact of life, but some covers are true to life.
