breach/black ice in 1 color

abyss 

of almost — 

the end-will-be —

that/which consumes us

daily without 

our 

ever/even looking 

up until aiyeeeeeeeeeee

we’re

flat up/gobsmacked

against it — a

terrifying 

kind of blessing.

nothing to 

do 

but be thankful/

alive &

to 

say ‘here . . .’ 

to the rest-of-us:

night terrors/blind

wanderings/the reaching out — 

(i perseverate & pray) — 

all those things

most of us do when faced

with the truth of almost-forever-gone.

 

here

we are

slip/slidin’ away :

willing flight/the-next

cold breeze.