trace metaphors into skin, jellied syntax
awash in synaesthesia, the sun and always the sun
a big, yellow magnet to hold every secret
A tonal void, asymmetrical, a stony hunger,
dry lips, the fusion of discord and hopelessness
found in wayward freedom: melancholia
and dream despair, the march of forever
a fragmented mirror; and you,
verbiage and dissonance,
a beating heart to finger
unwinds and finds
solace in time.
A fragrant hunger.
Inside our skin.