Hidden Chasms, Part One

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they left cuts
Iittle penknife incisions

in the ligature seeming harmless


fricatives awaken us at night

the tiny hours
leak oxygen

as the chasm sours

your eyes glass
over coffee

glass eyes sunk into oceans

solid and immune
to pressure

the lugubrious rest cure nourishes

the sandstone
where flowers bloom

we dig since we can’t love

our shovels
graze dreams

atrophied our useless limbs

leave them buried
in their holes

over coffee I don’t see you

you no longer
see me

we gaze past each other

into the chasm
and there

discover a new
caliginous love

By Justin A. Burnett

©2018, Silent Motorist Media

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