10/02/2024

I scratch my head and spiders skitter out, my mind rendered bare and exposed by that timeless blunt force object. And cobwebs drenched in cranial fluid remind me of the friendships that held me together before I ended up drooling into the stones beneath me like this. Neuron to neuron: a good pal electrifies. The secret they don’t tell you is that lightning can’t be captured in a bottle, but it can be captured in a physical vessel if you plunge an iron rod of ample enough length through a person’s exposed cerebral cortex right down to the medulla oblongata.  So I convulse to the song of storms. So I dance to the tune of the sky’s will, now that mine is gone. So here among the stones I am drooling, desiccated, and yearning for a time when sparks crackled in our irises – reflections of recognizing one another’s humanity.