i know the taste of fingernails and raw thumb meat
better than anything sustaining and it is a nervous
that defies explaining, there is no impending horrible moment
or if there is it isn't consequential like my flesh
reaction to it; i do not worry for things to come
i worry in each moment passed and passing and this
gives me such a gravity and magnet strength for
noise and light as beaconed slew to
overload and trip my circuits, failure, unable
to isolate individual stimulus within the sea
of sensation, it is only everywhere and always
pressing in until i am filled past filled but
filling still and never running over;
swell, vessel, weigh ten times more than scales
could ever know or show her