But maybe I said yes and then no one came to that darkened hall where we sat like two dolls with no hands to manipulate ourselves maybe just a voice between us and maybe they thawed our brains too quickly and no I said no when they painted his eyes shut and maybe this fat cock of a chisel can free us yes by blinding one eye to rub out the other and maybe lightning will fly sideways through us and no one will say yes I can tell that dust from that no but maybe we will be one in the gutters when they flush us away maybe
Sat stumped, wind down my legs. Birds coded hallucinations in intricate song, one tweeting sideways while another ate bugs to scales unknown to earth ears. What, sweat like black blood wipes clear? I thought I’d cut my pineal gland out with a sharpened deer antler earlier to help me sleep, but I must have missed and lobotomized myself. No matter. The stump knows gravity, I know the stump. This is why I come here to these wet woods. Beauty wrapped in death linens, mind gone with the morning rain. When they find me, my hands will have rotted off from exposed prayers to the dark unknown green beyond the edge of my failing vision.
My only hope is that a family of birds make love in my chest to keep my heart company.