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Duct Taped Radios

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Last words are often overshadowed by what follows them, squeals, shrieks or sighs. You'd know to hear for it, even expect it because it isn't a singular permanent thing in your vision, that floats incessantly in your waking torment. Instead, it's sudden, like a jerk to some old furniture, a bolt to a fan, that ultimately condenses to some poison. And this poison, like the repellants in the dark are of unknown devices, a dependable light and pungent scent. I wonder whom to pity, we who bleed or those who come seeking it .

I find the idea of a resting place comforting, yet completely redundant. Because the moment we knew our limitations, we found those desirable. That when rot put on a mossy cover and leashed us with vines, we couldn't help but rattle our bones against our crypts, that swung yarns of cobwrbs with dewdrop milestones upon them, and a heart of dust.

Our clothes drape us, our calendars age us, our breaths identify us. Nobody cares about being brandished if their intimacy is satisfied, be it the televised romances of novellas, the prismatic reflection of their own eyes or the loud coughs after a brawl. People make their own skies when they lie down due toto t comfort of their ceilings, and then sleep turns them sideways. So every beginning prolongs the end, and every capsize lasts as long as a marionette. 

Your fingers can be uniquely identified on plastic, against the black and polish, but there's always a scale to identify that you're quantified. They say these are distinct, countably infinite, each speck in the spectrum riding a wave, a ride it has never heard about. I remember how the duct tape screeches when separated, like a limb being torn, but everything else lies dormant and silent. Then you bind realities with hope and static, for recuperating, mindlessly searching in the abyss. You hear stories, yours doesn't fit in one of them but you do not worry about that. Maybe the next one will take a bigger chunk, maybe the volume will even out the rough edges. 

Maybe these duct taped radios will someday mimic our voices. 



 

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