banquet of rings

this
body persists tonguing
from behind

this
banquet of rings
punctuated by the habit of living

this
open muted yell, sick as secrets,
ever sinking into place

like buttons over the clatter of dice
in a cup with spiral thin necessity

this
trauma in exile
pressed molded anchored
sybaritic urgency to just spit
in a straight line

this
triumph over distance