Echopraxia
I can see myself
Clearly in the reflection
Of my mirror,
A fluid glass pane.
I am a ripple,
A skipping stone
Dropped in the depths
Of the parallel world
That seems to exist
On the other side.
I am dripped in the water,
Drying out in the sodium deposits—
Dehydrated and drowning
Simultaneously.
I plunge deeper still,
Unable to adjust
The shifting sands
Spiraling down, around me.
They rub away at
My pearl lined pupils.
The pressure increases
The further I go.
My lungs,
Like oxygen balloons,
Blow up with pocketing air,
Packed and condense,
Popping before I surface.
They collapse as
Elastic shrapnel
Buzzing as I breathe.
My chest fills with blood
While I slowly sink, sink, sink.
The salt stains
The leaking aqueducts
That stream from the sea of myself
Or who I think I am.
In thick, murky algae water,
Do I really have control
Of that which I see?
Do I really?
I stretch outward,
My muscles twitch
As my arms reach
To grasp at the current
That pushes me,
That tosses me,
[...] Read more
poem by Tim Stensloff
Added by Poetry Lover
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