Resuscitate
It will not budge
It’s dead in the water
Silvery bloated
On the surface
Floating Lifeless
…But I love it
I love it with my eyes
And what’s behind them
The neural web of me
Slime and sublime
Inside my skin
Behind my eyes
I love it with my heart
All of its butchered
bright redness
It’s rhythm, arrhythm,
It’s beaten immediacy
I love it with an incapacity
To ignore
An intuition of attention
A horrible compulsion
A twisted addiction
I love it with my fingertips
That itch to find it
Among the open tabs
Inside my bookmarks
My love, my only.
My dear, dear
dead poem,
That no-one
With just a mere mortal
Wisp of a glance
Will resuscitate.
Art: Kyaw Tun | Unsplash