Ninth blog entry - A poem, the car.

The car

Forest limited liminality cut in half by the Moses of the self you prophesize over me
Dismayingly foresee the mortality among us
Clacking sounds against tide-like still concrete

Why have you chosen to a cane be
When following blind and blurred steps I vocalize

Your arms, move forward, easy

Your legs, kneel down, gentle

Your hands hold broken wrists and pull forward

I screech, whine, fearsomely
Dear, I was, I have not stopped being yet
Blinding light heavenly heals my vision

I can't view you with these healthy eyes
Yet I feel you, my chest mixes with yours and we shakenly blend
Mundanely in one boreal breath, we share

Domesticated fingers slide inside forearms knotted around me personally
Tighten my tender bones
Serenade the blood dripping from my head
Thorns of acrimony amity driven inside

Untouchingly holding a corpse whose heart is still beating
For you, bright you, for you

The deer will remember
Run away from this embrace
Glare and memorize this dance

It hit

By: Ceibot, 2023. (I appreciate every kind comment this received on my personal bulletins, thank you, dearest friends of mine, for impulsing me to post it less privately).