Undertow (II)

And I

A chamber of salt and voltage, you flicker at the edge

Not absence, not presence, just a disturbance, in the surface of things

Your voice, a thin wire that fails to conduct

I have outgrown the need to translate you

See how I stand now

Unspooling light from my own marrow

No more orbit

No more leaning

Even the stars burn cleaner here

Without your gravity

Go

Become rumor

Become distance

Become nothing I must answer

I remain exact

Electric

Entirely my own

To be continued . .