There is a cold on my feet
I cannot shake
.. completely persistent...
For a time I suspect the blood is draining out of me
Other times
I tell myself
this cold is devastation
seeping up towards my heart
Either way
It's an odd irony
Cold feet
For the ground on which I stand
is iced-
over with the austere beauty complete isolation will bring you
* * * *
I am experiencing time
like
fireworks
in slow motion
Sparks, clips, blips, scattered in every direction
Functional chaos streaking by
But slowly
not fevered
not colorful
just as if all the light in the room exploded
glass and light
words and paper
fiber and flesh
burst
spreading, spinning, sliding
all over
sound is another monster
disjointed
mostly disjointed
Maybe I should put socks on.