Any Moment Now

Might be something by Eno, might be music,
really waves drawing back along stones,
the wet revealing unpolished fragments
and razor clam shells exposed, slicing

Jagged foot paths –
curved, aimless, unEnglish-garden-style,
the fog covering the means and ways,
that cut and bruise, draw sacrificial blood with each step

Lost, alone in weird thoughts,
a mind criss-crossed with witchy ley lines,
webbed with flickering lights,
dragged out and formed by drunken spiders


This fog

This beating heart,
uneven and unmeasured,
this pain within, the fog

The quiet feet dragging,
blooded footprints

The feet seeking water,
the mind seeking silence,
seeking fathoms

And a darkness to finally drown in


8 thoughts on “Any Moment Now

      1. Well, there are people who are into BDSM find pleasure in pain. But I know what you’re saying. I do agree about Keats. I would definitely buy Byron a pint.

      2. Byron gets a pint for sure.

        I felt this. The feeling wasn’t a beautiful one but it was so incredibly bang on the money.

        You see things.

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