Salt Lake

By | 31 October 2021

Pulse:
peal of bone—

I open my mouth to empty out
this sphere. Soundless-sound hangs
its presence. Pale sky

englobes me—

Am I gravity-
free?

I take
a step

inside. Time rushes through me. A doorway
shuts—walls, walls—a gypsum tomb! I cough up

mummified leaves, stone
seeds—the forest is gone. A pulse, a pulse.

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