Slow Panic

still, the current breathes the depth of winter
      dunes and drifts of blackened salt
exist, or exit through
                  the window, down
      below the mire of air sifted through dusk

hidden beneath an instant flare (the spectrograph displays an orange death)
we are selected from a group of smaller objects
                                    and I am nothing less
            than microscopic stress points in the burnished
steel of your eyes

untested elements deconstruct the edifice
      suspect, unstable (as of yet denied)
in this autumn heat – here is evidence
                        of our first intent
                  and each collision more intense
our precision spikes when fear subsides

the sound is
      contact: skin on skin


About QuietMonolith

I was just a mild mannered young man living in Portland, OR, until one day....POOF! I turned into a crazy, nefarious, thieving, drug-crazed lunatic. I had lots of therapy and spent many months in hospitals and treatment facilities. Eventually, at the end of my rope, I decided to change everything. With the support of my family and friends, I have embarked on a quest to achieve optimum wellness. I am making radical changes in every part of my life, and in the way I approach the world in which I live. Follow my blog, The Wellness Quest, to experience what happens when a desperate addict takes hold of his destiny and devotes all his time and energy toward making a full recovery. I am also a writer and poet. Follow my blog, What We Left Behind in Crowded Rooms, to take a look at some of my recent poems.
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