like a hit

I get a good feeling 

Like a hit 

Sometimes 

When I see you 

In the wet and grey miasma 

Sometimes yet  

I feel as nothing as it gets 

Unless you show me your naked 

Consternation 

Your ferocious equanimity 

And the bluebells 

In your shadow 

Sometimes 

I feel like that

I feel like I am nothing 

In the palm of your demands 

Ten years after I ran away 

I ran away from feeling 

Deranged 

In the first place 

By writing disturbance 

into submission 

By fighting perturbance 

With admonition 

Like trying to stop someone 

From having a heart attack 

By slapping them in the face 

Like the ancient God lurex

I am drowning  

in half an inch of lace 
veiling your forfended place

as a drowsy wasp will drown 
I am drowning god damn

in a jar of vinegar and jam. 

summer 2017 

artwok irina savina