Retrograde plays in the pitch
Palm rests centre of rib cage, fingers upon my breast
And I vibrate with each out of sync heart beat.
Under each eyelid I can see each rise and fall.
I can hear my own silent song
Base notes strong and faithful.
Stretched limbs let the sounds take over.
Blake’s echo fills the room, swirling and at once I am under the wave
Warm and suicidal I let the water slip like syrup into my lungs.
I surrender to the arrest.
Then the tide subsides
And the black summer’s night returns.
A hollow velvet.
It is time to tune out, to sleep.
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