Farther on this ice I
Underneath giants
But not in their shape, or shadow
Like I won’t define or confine
No more, no longer not
Yet this feeling of being
Locked Away From This World
Like a poem, an air
Purifier to these lungs
Of my only body
On this 6 train for
2.75, O
I got a kiss,
I’m a replica, his
Face is mine &
Her text arrived just
Now, just
A synth pad & drums followed by another synth pad that blends into a piano riff suspended over it all that reminds me, more than anything, of some kind of 1990s wormhole where you’re suddenly surrounded by cassettes & magazines & the glow of a Playstation behind it all where you & I are young & contain that easement for our use, today, now, undressing, synapses hard-wired in position, ready, so hard it: