Can’t wait to get back to that feeling
Surrounding me with its embrace
Filling my chest with hot cinders.
Under the grasp of an invisible palm,
Rough, firm, and unwavering,
My forehead sweaty and beading.
A waterfall below beckons me,
My conduit to absolute darkness
Calling me with a familiar voice
One that I’ve heard as a child
But now I cannot place.
Its force holds me by the throat
To end me completely.
The last part of me that still loves me
Wrapped around me like a lifesaver.
But the tunnel stretches on,
Water dripping from the mildew ceiling
Washing the past tenses off of my skin
Peeling the layers like paint
Preparing me to emerge at the mouth
Without me and mine
Without him and his new find.
Holding his power to account
In my head every promise he ever made
Swirling like emerald skies in a hurricane
Consuming what was or could have been
To create all that is boundless
And defiant of time.
Emin Saglamer, February 26 2018