dissolution

the breathless moment between sunset and nightfall drops like sonar on the radar map of lost souls and nostalgic heart beats. The stillness, the nothingness that envelops, when haven’t the pre-nascent days been lacking? Rocking slowly, liminal. I am the rock and the hard place. But we cave and cater and fall into each other like Sergeant Pepper’s lonely hearts but if the nothingness were desired, were attained in not being attained and settled and finished, contracted then perhaps the doing would serve as the nothing. And perhaps the nothing would serve as the love that dissipated (in our consummation) so flattened, let us lie like unleavened bread beneath the bombastic cosmos. Bedfellows of the humble, metallic, mineral salt water of the earth’s working class roots