, , , , ,


if I found the membrane again

if I touch it


if I go even deeper

if I reach right through and grab

that beating heart

of everything


if I have hold of it

if I feel the pulse of it in my palm

if I understand the life of it

the size and shape of it


If I then

can pour its essence mixed with ink

translated to words


it won’t matter


it won’t mean a thing

Just as if I had written in black ink

on a black toned page


(chaos girl ©)