Space Between
Low gray prison mattress
Sky slowly sinking.
It gets claustrophobic
The longer you’re out here.
Crawlspace January
Reptile wet and gaspy
Naked trees
Cachectic men
Arms like broken sticks
Pleading for mercy.
Pretty soon I’m prone
On the ground
Lopping up the last
Few molecules of oxygen
I’ve got left and it’s here, just
Before the terminal blackout,
Where I feel it. The truth.
The trusted earth rushing
Up toward the clouds.
It was the earth all along
Thronging to fill my lungs
With its dirt.
2/16/23
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