The Deadening

Memory is the bane of impermanence, and impermanence, the enemy of memory

His salivating eyes dine on the beforeward and afterward, hungry for what was, never was, and shan’t be

Straining against the current, he’s awash with sins of the past, for to take away the pain, would be to suffocate

Survivor’s guilt for this one, who undeservedly exists; while the living embrace the breadth of his present wasted

The bridges adust – trembling under the weightlessness of quotidian, phatic chatter – threaten… promise… his benighted isolation

He thus awaits, overmorrow or what then follows, the numb of decay and sublime windchimes to perturb his silence

When behindhand, whithersoever he lies, he shall relent

art: (untitled) by Zdzisław Beksiński

One thought on “The Deadening

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