Fetishising Inscriptions

There is no room in your coffin for a lived truth, a breeze of

Togetherness, a horizontal defeat. It has been proclaimed, the colourblind

Fetish, the ember that emboldened me, the coal without the strained blanket,

The sabotaging fire. All my loud questions begging at the foot of a tree trunk,

Insane and manipulative. I put my pretentious hands on you, the lack of

Verbosity, awaiting a nerve to respond, the silent skin, shrinking, sinking in,

The infectious nightmare of us, the sarcophagus lusciousness, climbing up my

Gullet, reducing me, the industry of death, my tormented desire to become a daughter,

To you, to reach a voice in terms of love, of reciprocity, of responsibility.

shallow focus of clear hourglass
Photo by Jordan Benton on Pexels.com

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s