Trembling. Trembling.

Only, somehow, rotating endlessly.

Tin can can-can.

Foundless concerns.

A window half open.

To a featureless grey.

Expansive as a sigh.

Reverberating, thundering, between the ears.

A singing,ancient, song.

For so long,

Of so long.

Tingling also.

Throat throttled.

Still.

Distill.

Dis-still.

Thoughts fly wildly, it was blacker than soot,

then, in meteoric contrast,

flashed before.

Veins on an eyeball strained to capture.

Rapture.

Immediate physical static.

Is that it?

No, again..

BANG! No sound.

An emptiness of missing.

Spirit, so fierce, I see in me.

With so much pleasure connecting.

Reeling in pulsing, photonic, information.


Kat Robertson September 2016