Repeat
Waves curling through thick hair
Grasping releasing into despair
It’s dark in here, I don’t want to go out
Swelling raising choking
Momentary frenzy looming
It’s dark in here, I don’t want to go out
Crumbling edge gulf appears
Teetering swaying no landing gears
It’s dark in here, I don’t want to go out
Confining groves plowed and worn
All caught up, resistant to mourn
It’s light out there, I don’t think I can go out
Ooooh, this is very dark in tone. It reads like a fantastical world of some sort, but then, it also made me think of a baby in a womb – ! That’s kind of funny when paired with “no landing gears” – but that’s rather true of babies. But there is a kind of “birthing” or “changing” sense to this work, and a kind of ‘otherwordly’ sense to it. Imaginative.