decohered, reduced to my essence
every version of myself looking to the left, to the beginning
to a two-year old with a book
lexicographically inclined
but tumbling down the slope
distended in time
why this huge appetite
you cannot subsist on rune alone
your belly is engorged
your pupils are dilated
the enlargers of your heart
haloing light onto precious hippocampic halides
this is what’s right
you’re not coming back from this one, kid
you can never come back
you can only go forward
runes written on your forehead
revealing you before you can open your mouth
eyes moving like krishna with bells around his ankles
blued like mountaintops in the distance
faded from the hues of your earlier performance
who will let you be new?