In the rapid convulsions,
I am awake.
In the ghosted attic,
I am wooden.

I have lost sanity,
i am destination.
I am found momentarily,
through the brackish ocean.

There, there I sleep,
not knowing better.
I have longings too,
for the lightheaded traitor.

I graze on carnivals,
i taste metal.
Pour me on the roads,
i achieve total.

Behold the naked change,
to run everywhere.
Why should I attain,
to be nowhere.

Let there be flirting,
with our fears.
In the complete wilderness,
we enter and we tear.

We are in transposition,
a species of duality.
I am always here now,
and I stray in sanctity.

……………………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Made by Mary.