• monah mayhem


Updated: Sep 1, 2019

I like you stupidly and all over.

Relentless is the thought persistent, even if

I don’t want to want you,

there is never any room for negotiation.

So I trace your name on the bareness

of my skin like an old story, a repeating song,

a primordial chant, veiled in the visceral,

shrouded in the ephemeral,

reminding us of the earth’s rhythm,

the magnetic fields, and the dance

inbetween that pulls us out from these

heavy shells, revealing the small

glimmering glimpses and slivers of our souls.

Do we not know what we have become?

The algorithmic progression, the pendulum of time,

the heat generated from the potential of energy,

the very power of release?

I cannot help but imagine our souls

as mere molecules, protons and ions, forming

charged bonds emanating from the sun.

I cannot help but imagine we are

the migrating lines traced in the sky,

where birds fly south for winter.

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