Memory plays in a blank canvas chasm.
Spotless and afraid of touch.
Blocked from consciousness.
Gated from light.
Cast into space.
Memory- a tree falling in an empty forest.
Time-the riddler laughing at black words on black.
Evaporating ink spilling from my throat.
Ghost children hopping branch to branch.
Breathlessly dancing from the pit of my tongue.
Twisted into the belly of the abyss.
Wrenching my gut.
Snipping the chords of life.