There are things that I don’t know about;
The invisible mechanics of fleshy clocks,
Entangled limbs, arms that reach out.
Hands holding, to keep their bindings.
Large and numerous fleshy pentagrams,
No hand remains unheld.
except for those
are not reached for
Winding, twisting, hard nosed things…
That I can’t see, or do anything about.
There are things I feel like I’ll never get;
The steel tongued desires of skinless beings.
Striking others maliciously without regret.
Underneath the iron their flesh boils,
To fuel an anger,
Whose edges cut loose my veins,
from speaking distance…
Pained, hanging, flying, ominous things…
That it seems like I’ll never be able to forget.