The eyes are filled with endless needles
blackened rosemary clings to the inbetweenness of seeing.
A thin line of witnesses to the world coming in
no wonder they sometimes jump in.
On her wrists the veins danced like light from a keyhole
through a sideways glance I am peering in,
fingering for the tumblers of a heartbeat unlocking.
A balanced meal
The moment laughs the scales out of swinging
and turns my world into a plate of naked fish;
life eating the balance out of living.
Discomfort angled in
and convinced my back to pinch itself awake.
my spine is not a dream.
Could you open it?
make an incision on the page,
extract all the ingredients,
take the sounds from the words?
and the shapes from the text?
like a surgeon removes the appendix?
Or would it all break down
collapse into a lack of synapses
neurons reversing evolution
curling back into themselves
each cell like burning paper,
shaking and introverting to ash.