Disconnection

"Sure, we were twins. We were the fucking Gibbons twins."

September faded in like fury at
an old wound,
crashed in as unstoppably as any tsunami,
and I found myself
      -- perhaps unsurprisingly --
    pulling thorns from my skin
   spitting mouthfuls of venom into the sink
  drowning with lungs full of oxygen.
emotions are fatal when
  the jacaranda begin to blossom,
  feelings all a-riot in pale purple
    & summercreeping warmth.
One day
    (or so I must believe,
     for sanity's sake if nothing more)
  I can see as it it crashes in like thunder,
    like cymbals, like rage & like inferno
it will last a gasping lifetime and set
  all of us free, liberty like blood.
and then, somehow
    I'm free of you,
        too.

 

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