먹어 ( eat )
written while listening to zion.t’s eat, he’s great, really / in which one reflects on one’s reflections.
everyone stops, or at the very least
slows down when they walk alongside mirrors,
through the corner of their wavering pupils matching
hints of ecstasy hanging off the creases at the end of their
dry lips, seeping through the crinkles by the ends of their eyes
or perhaps –
a soft jab against their sensitive spots, soft fingertips
against inner thighs,
it just takes five seconds.
eventually they spill over, picking up pace and they’re
at the starting line, once again
likened to an afternoon during sports day in high school,
their hands pressed against the heat of the track,
their eyesight blurry as a result of an all too familiar jolt of familiarity,
of being overly conscious, too sober,
they might blame the coffee, or the short lifespan of a
reverie, or ephialtes per se.
but they learn to keep their palettes clean,
running water against stains –smudged, lost, and once again,
red blue yellow, the boundaries of purple, orange, peach,
smudged, lost, and once again,
its proven difficult, to remember where he ends,
and where she begins.