A cacophony of noir forced itself upon me,
sealing my lips and shutting my eyes.
My meager earth doubled over,
gave one last shattering cry,
and sighed into a damning silence.
One that enveloped me in the lack of it all;
dusting me in dusk.
I fell into finality, clinging to a lasting feeling of
cool, flat, metal against my mortal eyelids.
The thin, shadowy skin, a stable jack holding up heaven.
Towed from my body to my mind, then further into
something else,
I was a stir of etherized coils
navigating a world I no longer knew.
Until I was cradled in the arms of a pliant, grey river.
Soothed by empty currents, a lullaby to my foreign form.
Guided from here to the next by an antenna of golden mystery.
It stood on a sturdy body as it peered over me with string
that vibrated puppeteering prose, trilling the end of the timeline.
The clock restarts, its face blank and hands still,
a temporal omen of eternity.
My destination claims me, and the river runs dry.
Rest resounds in my rhythm as my spirit resumes its unfocused dance.
Lost in my rightful place.
