Into opalescent
wetness, into dura
mater, feet first, toes
pointed, soul’s laser,
bikinied girl child drives
self through yielding
steel of water, through
memories, forward,
high dream castle,
into cold weather’s
cauldron, into starts
of things, into menses,
into hendiadyses
(loud and awful,
strange and wonderful,
long and uncomfortable),
into unfairness, like
grey green funeral
fare, miswedded friends,
car crash, animal
catastrophe, and
also unspeakable bliss,
through the pool,
blue becoming,
where are the coins
and quietness, breathless
nothing, loneness,
me-ness, nowness.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio


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