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

His bridges adust, trembled under the weightlessness of quotidian, phatic chatter; threatening, promising, a benighted isolation

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

When finally, behindhand, whithersoever he lies, he shall relent

art: (untitled) by Zdzisław Beksiński

Integrated

She deploys her apparitions in forward ambulation, and watches with desperation as they carry out their vocation

With her imagination, in each direction and interaction, she’s intently searching for an end, to her crippling life retraction

Spiritual substitutions feed her relentless observation, investigation into the world, a long sought integration

Each ghost has her own mission, to report their information, of every disasterous distraction and failed exhilaration

Knee-buckling osculation, or simple interdigitation, she’s just looking for extraction from her lifelong isolation

art: by Ivana Besevic