trembler
I am walking down the sidewalk toward the apartments, but at the same
time I am deep in the mud under the river, thick and cold but not crushed
by its weight. My fingers can move, just a little, but I don’t feel the
need to breathe, content to pull in the silence and dark where I cannot
be found, revisit memories, consider potential acts, and yet I am now at
the complex, walking around to the stairs, and I am running out of time.
In johnboats up on the river’s surface, they hunt for my body with long
metal rods they shove into the riverbed, the calloused fingers and palms
attuned to the frequencies of my bones, but I know nothing of this, and
yet I know all about it, and know it is not real, that I am at the door,
that I am knocking on the door, that I can hear someone inside turning
the locks.
(12:26.05.19.2005) [/scrytch] #