exhalation sensory pit

An extrapolatory tongue dips into jars of ink—

Watch it as it jumps down its hole; a rabbit,

Elusive, quicksilver rolling down the crease created

by your spine…

It seeps into your skin,

ossmossian mercury;

Ichor, blood god of communication

takes form:

the thought chased, the thought dreamt-


while the words become


structure in your ear. structure and sound

structure from sound,


held back by nothing, birthed from a silent womb

dripping down into the depths of words

you sink,

like a flare dropped deep

fading into the pit

where sound burns,

your imagination, it’s combustion

only possible as your eyes

follow it, reaching the bottom,

landing with a resounding tap

that echoes up at your

shadow-cast face

it is I,

Sensory Pit

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