tastes like
dust
collected on the vegetable
platter left out
because you didn’t care enough
about yourself to put it away,
smells acrid, like
it should burn your throat
to inhale
but you don’t feel
much but your body,
languid,
releasing quiet cough
sounds like
you’d expect a cave to breathe
when you walk in
just to find another rock wall,
concrete and
final
looks like
surrounding steel bars, old
enough to rust but just
fading, still holding back
the spirit caged behind them,
feels like
the vibration in your fingernail
as you scratch the wall –
designate another day
but leave no mark.
EJZ 12.30.2015
wordsoflyzzdom 