• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 03
Image by


Asphalt, patched black and white, offered acceleration through a loss of                                                                                                           friction.
I demanded nothing less than collapsing distance.
Surfaces can resist you too.
I inverted from the roots upwards.
The lowest bone split in force and fissure.
I reverted from the roots upwards.
The bone cannot be separated, only encased in air.
Pressure columns condensed, pending decision.
Miles and miles from bonding.
I will spread like water on a threshold.
Limbs sinking through lower surface.
Blades in decay and crystals.
Floating till my blood is thin.