disjecta

An Odd Day
More of a heaviness
than any sort of turbulence
bubbling under my chest,
caused by a parallax gap,

the interest in that
liminal space
defining two (unnecessarily) contrasting
perspectives and viewpoints.

Mixed signals, teasing,
passing the ball from one court

to another.

And it has been a peaceful day
so far, a quiet beer
over a blazing afternoon
that has kept the crowds indoors
far far beyond the reaches
of the sun’s rays.

As though
there were a struggle
that the ego has just mediated,
and my conscious mind
merely seeks to absorb the remnants of
that fierce negotiation that
had taken place in the early,
dark hours of this very day.
Leading into queer openings
and a zombie sauntering
around.

Notions of love and beauty.
The correlation makes itself obvious.

A slowing takes place,
where time becomes elastic
like the supply line on an economics
graph
of a distant memory
and at the same time
heartbeats halt
breath taken away
by a single thought of a single person
who seeks a subjectivity beyond
the frame that covers all around
this particular canvas.

The stretching stretches me by the
ends of my limbs,
as I look to return to comforts
and satisfactions
defined by the simplistic
nature of a love so pure.