Aperture

it should hurt. maybe it does. the empty lever. the hollow fulcrum. we wear our prisons in loose robes and heavy belts.

the monsters growl. the ladder leans. the anatomy of trust is a pendulum. the sober of want is a powerful drug.

we sleep. we don't wake. dead enough. claws in time's rope. rivets in the wheel's ache. orphans. wide eyes. soft lips. ripe with the diseases of living.

there should be pain. but  there is only blood. openings.

and the impossible distance. between the beginning and the end.