tick, tick
the tiniest inkling
taking
tapping
traces
transcending
yields absent attempts
alcohol doesn't burn the same
funneling to a domain
unmapped
untrampled
barren for miles
and its deserts aren't cracked but cohesive
nearly perfectly constructed
underneath
the indentations are earthquakes
buying their time
vibrations, fearsome and ready
moving closer but not touching
what's been built atop
talk
we don't
about the foundation
it isn't one
thought to be a flaw
its unflawed
not a something waiting to get out
it's nothing effortlessly holding itself in
contraption
how long have you been there
its not until you
became so real
did you change from complex to conscience
i
thought it was just a little leftover,
a racing remnants
with an eventual defeat.
survival
no inquiry, no use
it lives on its own now
reminding me where and when it can
a reverse-restoration
detached-incision
death-driven
detent.
