Discord

There is no freedom
in the curvature of
another person's
body

Bound by promises
unspoken
but laid down
in seminal fluids

A quiet respite from
the cacophonies of
man's machinery

Drowned bodies
lining cobblestone
streets in the
moonlight of twenty years
from now

I spread my hands over
stubborn seas, trembling so
violently
that the tide breaks pattern
and rises to meet me

Frozen tundra stiff
and screaming atonal
tirades at the stars
Delineated lines indelibly
drawn across the sky

In form both in failure and friction, crossing lines drawn
in the sand
Figures broken down into
dwindling shadows
slave only to space and
time

Stuck between satellites

Stuck between channels

Stuck between higher powers

My fingers grope tiny
airwaves

the movement of dying

bitter on my tongue