Contours - Code

late answers lap around

the bliss-wet air beneath me

cold gulps, as many as required

won’t seal up the ceiling stare

stay, filter

now all of my rats have departed

I can wane somewhere

apart from the noise

pause here and colourize the pain

because soon I’m alighting

the lifting beams

glide down

siphon

into the overspill

beckoning the outlines

signals lull

flickers in a new time

contours

your grooves are filling up

an anaesthetic crush

and I draw out