It's like
the feeling of lime
gently cradling your palm
Electric shocks and jumpscares
rely on your system failure.
In the small world we live in
the crowd of mist on your breath is a fountain
rising through the air
Chlorine nitrate
Floating upwards forever into the sun
By all means your
eleutherotrophic gaze
reaching towards the only way out:
Into the open
the sky
a clear cut line of glass
pinpricks and
crickets.
Just this,
in the small world we live in.