headrests with crystal
clear chromatic incisions.
slumber, enter true
Clouds pass by flowing upwards at
lightning pace, two steps it took moth on its windup
Last lateral look of the ground, dimension awaits!
Fly!
dirt ocean regales its regards,
Opulent occurrences, carried by the current
Merge with breath, oh exhale! Flourish in tandem
Crystal tandem, marked in cross, honed
And bled into the sky, the pace, oh what pace!
Machine into the cosmic
Catch me in the clockwork two hands I receive, match, and bend
Too swift on the anagramic uproar, i stumble, match,
Stutter through the currents, lightning charged currents
Guarding and coursing the moth,
Guillotine of plasma, remove my limits!
Clockwork is banished, the arms have no home
a matched set, boreal, stuck in coordinates
lost to the map, i stumble, i fall
The breeze
The currents!
They sing!
Whisper me your great
Sonnets!
Whisper into my remaining ears!
You
Won’t
Live
To
See
The
Ground
So
Carry
on!
About the Creator
Trent Odlin
After getting diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease at the age of fifteen, forcing me out of school and uprooting my life, I spent the majority of the next five years in bed. There, I found writing, and my own style of surreal poetry.
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