.
I am part soul,
I’m here for her kiss.
I grasp at her stars’
photosynthesis.
My long lost Atlantis,
a rose from dead seas.
She shows me the doors,
but hands me no keys.
I am the fallen columns
all scattered about.
“Twenty thousand leagues!”
I heard someone shout.
She is my chipped stone
below the mucked mire
that leads me beyond
Calcutta’s cold fire.
Ah! lethargic genius,
there’s gathering birds
where dogs lap at the vomit
we mistook for your words.
She still hides in my veins
while it’s raining outside.
She’s my universal
osmosis—my suicide.
She really is…
.
