You need to move.


The sheets are crinkle-folds under the soft crust of salt,
thick tears and sweat in ripples
And you can close an eye…


But HE is there, no more, no MORE, he is THERE! You cannot, you c


Water beads from oil
Open an eye.


The world is a film, a negative of amber grains, held
up against the sky


You need to move.


Ten years ago your father went on an expedition and h
e got you a shirt….
It’s faded now and the minerals in your bloodstream eke out in your sweat
It’s stained


You need to move.


Behind you, silent dancers of light-catching webs
snarl
Ripping at mucous



You need to move.



Lying here, like a bug in the jack-o’-the-pulpit, digesting,
Wings in a fissure
Dissolving
Rotten juices, tasty meal, begin to sluice and
A n d rip…


Just bit by bit but it’s okay, it’s only skin, you can live without a little bit here

A little bit there

An open sore here

A wound crying out with
Wet, wet dripping open holes

A little rot is nothing new it’s just how you are you’re rot you’re nothing but rot you rot you

You have to move.

The cavity is beckoning with
Dark, sticky teeth


You have to move.


Brittle bonespurs clack, splinter over splinter, as
Lactic acid pools and fulls.


You have to move.

You’re going to move.

You’re


Crickle-crackle under your shins
Crickle-crackle go the sheets
Crickle-crackle go the places in shadows where your bones once met


With a hiss, it’s seeping, like oily spend, down your

Legs


And you take a step forward.

You

Have

Moved.