If it’s alive, it’s electric
If dead, the crows
will have pecked
out its eyes by now
If perishable, you can tell
by the general disposition
Seaweed and blue-green algae
sway my heart
Saltwater fills my throat
conductive during cayenne’s fever
A fire came to me in dreams
torched the terrain of my intestines
Left a seed of hope through shame
judged my weaker actions lacking
If it’s alive, it’s magnetic
If gone, the ghosts
will soon voice
the haunting season
If sustainable, you can weep
but the clock keeps ticking
Published on April 17th 2023
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