Temples

Tongue bowed like shoe laces and bows that tongue like laces.

Temples of my head gouged out into two

holes.

Holes where nothing is held and everything flows.

I stare ahead, eyes fixed, tongue gripped.

But the world flows through the chasms and noise is everywhere.

White noise but also red. Red and green noise i think.

A soundscape of blood and grass and flames and emeralds.

 

Close my eyes. Bite my tongue. Clasp the sides of my head:

Feeble futility.

It grows: in my stomach now. Travelled from temples to tummy.

Temples of Lucifer. No not Lucifer thats dramatic.

But it does feel like Lucifer. It feels like I feel nothing because I feel everything.

 

Outside is the humming, mulling, floating of life being lived.

Tongues on ice cream, tongues on tongues.

Finger caress and link

to fellow fingers. The whole world breaths at once: in and out.

 

And so too my temples: battered portals worn down gradually.

Their edges rough and coarse like taste buds.

But they are masochists.

They stretch and widen and scream for more.

More red more green more everything.

 

And so my tongue is tied.

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