Gaping

By: Palmer Durham

with eyes blinded and arms out in front of myself to try and sense the way toe tapping puddles elbow scrapes ancient words that have fallen from above to this lightless below me feeling anxious feeling just the right size to push through past the hounds baying in the distance to this voice right in front of me speaking sounds of honey that cause question and keep on walking blindfolded into the pebbles on boulders on inverted mountains that grow wider and deeper each day mirrors the gaping holes between these bones.