Before opened to air,
my arteries pulse slowly
beneath my skin. Moments
open and close within
a moment, like doors despite
a shoulder against the jamb.
What was seen, as grace
of tense, folds back upon
itself, like sedimentary
rock grinding all myths
into a gruel. Divorced
from when and then,
tapping time on walls
I hide in where I am.
(October 27, 2016)
