Starlit Verme
Stride Gallery
February 25 – April 22, 2022
Where I lie
prostrate at earth-level, I draw the cloth encircling myself
In filmy darkness, before my eyes see, I know they are near
Senses focus on the murmur of strange rain
The visitation at bedside:
We are separated only by the thin, diaphanous screen
They float overhead, hunched silhouettes creeping in starlight
—unnatural neighbours
And trembling, I made three wishes in the dark
Though if a word was spoken between us it was not heard or understood
The blind and forever wandering, the spectre Lymantria Dispar Dispar come to consume and destroy
Worms speak to the body: no word
A profound alienation separates us—even without the sealed chamber—we live on different planes
I cannot comprehend you. Can you see me?
It is not yours, but the other language that impresses upon my heart
Written in my DNA, as old as bones: two which shall never touch
