The force of sharpened cloth befalls my chest.
A sideways slide like the sharpening of swords encrypted in its tune.
Blue and white are hazy and conjoined, my chest protruding outwards.

Down deeper than dungeons half emptied, I am forced to rear,
skin rising like the thunderous waves of satisfaction, warning me.
Up for stars’ reach, to infuse within my many protons and neutrons,
Than down, back again, where the silence of dark enthralls me.

My life scatters needlessly as light of misty summers slither impatiently away.
The climb is coarse, jagged and slick.
As hands bleeding from crystalline shards shudder, they begin to take form once more.
Heavy stones rock forth not back ramming already tight walls nearer.
And from above glides burnt rubber, as it calls in clear, my name.

Fingers and palms behave once more, like honey to dried fingers, they fasten.
A beguile flush of fresh air is shot at me, a semi-automatic,
My lungs perpetuate breath once more, as once filled spaces empty
A song is sung in this short period, chest protruding inwards.
Rubbery savior freed from unlit confinement sifts merrily upon exit.
A feral bellowing is heard from beneath, and with that the journey persists.