Jump

by annex50

I slide upon this
rock
and it crumbles
down
down.

The air breathes
a convulsion
that gyrates
purposeful exertion.

Forward to
this place.
Backward and
thrusted.

A sickle cell
entrapped
in a futile
canvas.

Stark.
My eyes
perspire.
Succulence.

Parched desperation
pinballed
wall to wall
without boundary.

Quenching
is what was lost.
Drumbeats are
echoless.

Rhythm.
Step by
gravity.

Hands, they touch
pockets
of good
will.

Chastised and deceived
toward
groveling hands
stenched
within a grasp.

Sensory meltdown
gnawing at finger
nails hammered.
Penetrated.

Immortal within
a capsule
of exaltation
to be retold
again and
different
but
again.

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