pssst

[maccity]

just a few words
from a dark corner
of bologna
of the internet:

I'm moving
bubbling
dancing
wandering in the dark

I'm pumping hot iron
drinking its liquid dregs

I dissolve daily into long back slumbers
I never return to yesterday
trying hard not to try so hard

Who will I be tomorrow?
Who will I be with tomorrow?
Who will I not be with tomorrow?

How will the vital spirit eventually escape this body?
What opening will it find, this Desire?
And the iron grip on my heart,
will you release it
will it beat forte again?