the mirror and the stare from metaevol

i am ailing!
i am ailing, in distuned repose-
some c(h)ord of portent
upends me now
unbodied unquiet sleep,
(where art thou?)

i lurch suddenly,
midsection constringed,
toward the precipice
whence you fell-
what evil dream
has come to life,
as i slumber ill-astride?
you've gone,
yet-tied and strung.


with umbilical taught,
my body contorted,
i brace myself-
and rise.

heels dug,
the edge i seek,
to stare that gaping black,
consumed you.

i can neither see acrost
nor abreast this beast
that preys in silence
as we sleep.

what blood was spilt
so scorched the earth between us?

not blood, but bile-
vain sacrifice to venus?

saught not the sky-
no smoke,
no fire;
no altered winds,
no change!
instead we bound stale, rotting pools
of stagnant fleshy wounds;
and seeking thus yet motlen dea(p)ths
it rent our rock in twain.

thus boiling,
burning,
cloud comes
churning,
fills the growing space
inside...
the edge of you,
the edge of me:
our heart await demise.

dis c(h)ord alone can save us,
one must avoid the fall;
so stand i must,
to pull you up,
lest death consume us all...

a vantage into darkness!
or...a vantage from within?
a cord to climb,
a twine to pull,
survive this hell again.

thus water quenches fire,
and steam, it cleans the air,
the two of us
are two of one-
the mirror
and the stair.

-158377
2010.11.04:2043
jmi
metaevol