
Disintegration
Do you hear that?
There’s an empty space in my voice.
A void in my capabilities.
To climb a hill, and exhaust it.
Stairs by handrails
by step-step, step-step.
Do you see the ghost of a woman
who could take stairs two at a time.
Zero to sixty in 3.3 seconds.
Off-piste.
5K.
I’m in danger of becoming
moss on a rock. Worm on gravel.
I sing to my asters and cosmos –
my garden is on autumn’s hip.
Dying.
Pink shrivel.
Green loss.
An end of time.
If I enjoyed drink,
I’d want to be perpetually drunk.
But I don’t, so I won’t.
Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.
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