De-hydration

There was I,
sitting atop the toilet seat after dark,
clutching the stemless wineglass with ice,
melting and prickling my fingertips with cold
beads expelled in an attempt at temperature
regulation.

My heart stomps and fills my ear
with an exasperated scream
about how hard it is to move
all this blood
to and from.

I do not drink wine,
my drink is called Karma,
its supposed to aid
digestion, I digress,
waiting in the mid-night
beads roll down my temple
and I shatter atop the frozen tiles

Waiting

as my Karma becomes diluted.


Painting by Sebastian Stoskopff [Public domain].

Dinosaur Footprints

I have been gone
I was here
there
and
then
returning around
full circle through the loophole
suspending my rate of travel
to notice
now
anti-matter
wrapping my grey matter
around black matter
warped by white
the speed of light
taut with tension
pulled along a string
holding onto an inkling
a rope, a noose
to the letter T
a man hangs
swinging on his vine
ape-time-pendulum

I glance back
after collecting the
pitch morning dew
stuck on my soul and shoes
I stare intently
fixated
casually noting
the wide open gait
a first impression
that lasts
until
the mark
I made
is swallowed by exposure
atom slurping condensation
rising under pressure
of erasure
immersion
absorption

Then I was never there
I see where my wide left stride
travels through time
traceless
all over the space.

Back to reality,
the boomerang wanders
where I vacillate
and see
saw
between
cat gifs
and hieroglyphics,
making long To do lists.


Image By Augustus Binu/ www.dreamsparrow.net/ facebook (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.