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Writer's picturePaul Clive

Quicksand

Deimos and Phobos


I can barely breathe
Suffocating in
Quicksand
Underneath my skin

Sundered secrets caught in throats
Fires burning under tongues
Faces blushing, light this up
Up and atom, meet these suns

Purging, belching out black smoke
Prodigal, still doing splits
Bending over backward
To become the destroyer of worlds

A far cry from throwing stones
Ripples of the underworld
Lunar movers centrifugal
Moon-set against the glassy sea

Growing cold but still ticking
Lips still pursed here for the kissing
Ashes spread but somehow kicking
Up another storm

Seen out on the sea of dunes
Still fooled by these mirage men
Idly just humming tunes
Thoughts ripe for the talking

Singing softly tickling bones
Forgotten buttons launching phones
Applications never closed
Frozen shadows caught like ghosts

Sorting through a list of songs
Time enough at last for us
Entangled against these sunset skies
Filled with truth with faces flushed

Guess I'll have to leash myself
Lash my heart and break my head
Prepare the soil for irrigation
Still mastering this castigation

Rising up above these fetid clouds
Miasma with each rising day
Hocking up these iron lungs
To get a taste of something rarefied

Aether luminferous
Cradling the cause of this
Misconceptions most notorious
Notions thoroughly debunked

Falling back down to the dirt
Not worth my own hypothesis
Hypnotized to have some worth
And achieve an apotheosis

Stitching tantric elements
Head under sand like ostriches
Averted from the Gorgon's gaze
Serving as my own headstone

I bury this in loneliness
The canals all choked with smog
The wars are distant memory
The Martian cities gone

Buried under every blunder
Bit lips and bleached skin
Guess I'll settle for Groom Lake
Since I'm never phoning home

I can barely breathe
Suffocating in
Quicksand
Underneath my skin


(Art is AI Generated using WOMBO Dream app)

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