as I lay...

a poem: [stripped]

František Drtikol :: Untitled, 1920s. Vintage gelatin silver print.| src Gitterman Gallery

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This static position, motion in still
I gather a force as if an electrician 
Or an architect erecting foundations
That become lucid sedations of 
Elucidations —and I scatter—explosive
Renditions of rendering particles 
Disassembled reassembled, my own
Structure transforming shapes liquid
Adularescence iridescent glow shifting
Reaching for you a ray of immersed 
Immersion where I lose my identity 
Understanding, discovering, finding that
Which others, in blindness, don’t see of 
You.

To feel the disappearance, the 
Reappearance the faded yet colourful
Flutters of lash and follicle dances 
In air in wisp in lick intimate infinite
Elevations levitations emancipations
Implosions in an atmosphere thick with
Sounds of a rhythmic evolution in time
Rewriting what seems fiction from the
Outside to a nonbeliever a preacher of
Mysticism and divine so delicate
Intimate touches of my dispersion erasure
Action resolutions scientific absolutions
Of which I don’t give a damn as we shift into
Me.



—sylvia

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