Monday, 18 May 2015

Drowning in the Kitchen

Consumption is reciprocal
For body it will take until
The sick
Slow heave of bringing
Items back.
Downstairs then, I went to see
How much water
I could drink

To gain a certain confirmation from the weight
‘Daughter’ ‘Dear’ a ‘would-be-shrink’
The liquid lurch then of identity
I had not quite caught up with yet
Prepared by breath with burning tea
To ascertain no feelings left
-          Life in one measure or another
My tongue – a shape to condescend
Plugged my speech then as a funnel

A experiment a bit of fun, a ‘friend’’
For that was what I’d served before
The same with water, tepid
The kind of purge which needs take in more .
The raw alumni there of anticipation
Sealed the body where the unknown breaks
Let in liquid, and began to choke
Transferring pressure, the familiar ache.
Was deeper then
The sleeper’s spill – of not knowing when to stop
The water entered by a tilt
There was no direction of ‘enough’.

The body a thick obstacle
I will dilute eventually
Like they who stand at my tides
With dirtied hands
Waiting for the pools

Of muscle-memory. 

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