Or Rejecting Trajectory

Let the night leak in,
and distant fog
from lamp’s yellow gaze...

chemical smoke, and 
history, green the dark.
Maybe cold can save me 

from drowning
among blood-warmed
black drapes,

whisperless and listing.
Far-off, like wishes, 
my bones walk in moon grit

and the echoed twittering
of disturbed birds.
I’m still wondering

how I got here, like
every comet, looking back
at its brushed-light tail.

9 thoughts on “Disbelief

  1. I love this, especially the title!
    Your chapbook arrived yesterday from Gininderra press. I was going to read it a bit at a time, but started this afternoon and found myself reading all of it. It’s brilliant Worms! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. So many wonderful lines and images in here Worms but these are my favourites: “the echoed twittering of disturbed birds.” & ”
    from drowning
    among blood-warmed
    black drapes,” 👏👏❤️❤️👌👌

    Liked by 1 person

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