Wednesday, May 1, 2024


The thought is never far 
from the top 
of my mind 

that I would do anything 
to stop myself 
from decomposing. 

And yet, 
there's something 
in experience  

which shows me 
this is wrong:

it's something about 
the comforting feeling 
of a lozenge on the tongue; 

the way I perceive 
the sweetness 
more clearly 

the more its clean edges 
seem to soften 
and dissolve;

the way I seem 
to love 

even the smallest 
bit of my understanding 

the instant 
before it's gone.