Interstitial 0.2
By elena minor
Empty air has its own mechanism, me dijo.
Its gears accord to whim.
We go out only when we have to, me dijo.
We have hidden things for breathing.
You can't understand it prepped that way, me dijo.
It always changes, but never readily enough.
Some things we say more of and then again, me dijo.
They always mean less once pre-written.
The context connections are far too frail, me dijo.
To make them you need to pixel-point time.
There are no click-in-n-out pictures, me dijo.
You facet your eyes to see them multiply.
There are hands held out everywhere, me dijo.
We have to be careful what to step around/in.
Sometimes we come this close too late, me dijo.
Then we have to wait for inertia to embrace us.
We are the hungry, hungry: so ravenous, me dijo.
We will tear at your insides and lick them clean.
Copyright Credit: elena minor, "Interstitial 0.2" from Titulada. Copyright © 2014 by elena minor. Reprinted by permission of Noemi Press.