Sunday 9/26/2010 01:59:00 AM

this sanguine garden must have other colors to give. the chatter of her fears plays in a loud orchestra. the trumpets lack breath. the strings are all broken. the science of skin finishes the stories she's barely begun.

inertia keeps her moving. makes her still.

she chases the chaos. little demons in their pointed black boots. swooning high on impossible mountains. the echos of their descent like thick illustrations. heavy pencils digging into the thin papers in her head. she follows the the dichotomy of the numbers. arrogant with inertia.

the physics of movement erupting. each atom aware of itself. and the millions surrounding it. these arrogant molecules of humanity. demanding reason. where there can be none.

it's only now. that's all it's ever been. an open window. the rain teeming in. the threat of circumstance. always on the verge of making us listen.

inertia. the planets in their orbits. the frenzy of if. the delirium of how. all this progress is slowing me down.

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