Phase

Asphalt, patched black and white, offered acceleration through a loss of friction.
I demanded nothing less than collapsing distance.
Surfaces can resist you too.
I inverted from the root upwards.
The lowest bone split in force and fissure.
I reverted from the root upwards.
The bone cannot be separated, only encased in air.
Pressure columns condensed, pending decision.
Miles and miles from bonding.
I will spread like water on a threshold.
Limbs sinking through lower surface.
Blades in decay and crystals.
Floating till my blood is thin


This poem was written in response to an artwork by Manon Bellet for Visual Verse.