amphibi.us

the poet Jamison Gilley once told me of his penchant for lying naked
in a fetal position

on the cold tile floor
in the bathroom
of his Manhattan loft.

unable to move for hours
waiting to feel something
anything

and feeling nothing, seeing
nothing, being
nothing.

and I thought
if I could lie down
on some milky black night

and detach my retinas
swiftly, like opening a vein
I could use my mind’s eye

to see
how you pulled me in
gutted me

disemboweled me
and bled me out
how you opened me

skillfully

© Ag Synclair, 2010

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