Tagged: self-identity
there is a sense of
there is a sense of
disconnection here,
on the four-thousand-
seven-hundred-fourteenth
year, raising red lanterns
because everyone
else is doing it
.
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y
from a new box of
after just a few
after just a few
layers, it will already
be impossible
to rub off –
being cornered
into a personal
narrative is a slow
coercion that has no
identifiable corners
.
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y
how we feel and how
how we feel and how
we are meant to
feel wind between the
body’s organs like two
serpents, sometimes
cordial, other times
territorial when confined
in such tightly bound
assertions. every
morning, one wakes
just before the
other, and there is an
inaudible tightness
around the chest,
a muted plea to
letting go
.
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y
y 