After hours of fiddling, out the phrase you never
could have ever known.
“Infiltrates are seen,” it said,
Infiltrates? Doesn’t really sound friendly, does it?
Kind of makes me imagine of a pool of pirates with
metal swords and tattered shirts
With teeth all yellow and red from betel nut
cigarette
They are too many,
Far too many they
form a grimish looking, dirty green of a thing.
They are approaching, swarming gradually, closer and
closer towards me
And my two inner islands my lady, with all her
pleasantry, calls lobes
My lady sits by the corner, lurking forward, turning
me paralyzed
In her milky white robe, with hair the color of
the shadows under my eyes
She called out and right then, snatched me by the
heart.
I’m trying to listen but I cannot hear a thing
Did she say I’m okay? Or that I will be?
My spine is trembling,
Almost gnawing now as I pull away from the metal
beds that spark from the fluorescent
I could see her mouthing, words I cannot remember or
too bemused to utter
My heart is pounding, pulse banging in my ears
I’m getting dizzy now, a little tissy
As if I just got up from bed, still fumbling in a
half-awake, half-asleep daze
I’m trying not to faint, faking brave
Coaxing self: one can never be very blessed. And this?
One have prepared for this long before, nonetheless.
Seconds crawl like millipedes without the arms
Twirling, twirling, hovering by the soil where it
had dug out a hole
Dancing and dancing, rejoicing in the irony the
universe has pummeled this boorish atrocity
