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