indelible

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at the entrance, a toothless old woman blocked my path. "excuse me" id said. although i towered above her, i couldnt get by. "please excuse me." i said louder. because she was smaller, i bowed to her and caught eyes of colorless shine crumpled within a wadded paper face. i wanted to unwrap her, see what was written. i wanted to ask why the underground was closed to me, but before i could she sprayed spit, shrieked FIRE! and although i smelled no smoke, this origami cassandra insisted that it was burning, back and forth, "....approaching like a drunk in ragged repetition. it will swallow you up if you go down there" she warned. the glint of men in her message amused me - she must have been a failed poet; i dug for spare change, but found none. naught for her, nor i - no difference to split. a sneeze of years and we might have been the same. she was right of course; i should have been barred from the underground that didnt take broke people. i wanted to lose myself, and looked to a blend of people to carry me.
kierkeguard said that if you keep walking, it will save you. but he died of exhaustion. i walked as if this disdain of destination would allow me to continue. as if my actions, my exits, were prologue. i walked....and walked.

~*~

when i peer into my polaroid i remember the softness of him stroking my palm, like illegible braille. remember him leaving. remember him walking toward the light. i say, dont look back.

my lips swell. not from sickness, but from his taste. the looks from others lift us. no gravity. no shame. their smiles stories our life, says we'll live forever. now my heartbeat comes to me an empty reminder - a fraction of feeling whose wholeness has left. like ash from the fire of my life come to tease me toward waking death. theres a crude loss that comes from having felt too much. this is living. this is loving. like flying, dont look down.