a slow poetry

and this night she spends
in involuntary thought

the left hand feels
the scalp and the hair roots
a massage for thoughts about
the incredulity of speed of time

she draws an imagery of its loathesome haste–

a massive massless entity that
runs faster than the earth’s rotation
(that part she says out loud–
“earth’s rotation”)
its arms
astronomical and multiple and agile
hoist and carry people away

instigator of
a voracious human heist

right before her eyes



and hopes to stall
by typing
a slow poetry
under the darkest indigo


2 thoughts on “a slow poetry

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