where i'm from is a distant, nebulous side
of spastic voices and cryptic ripples.
and day by day they lurk under my skin,
in atoms, drops and rainfalls,
immovably tangled in the vaults of my quiet presence
and nailing the seizure of their disruptive surge
in the black of my hair,
in the chasms between my ribs,
in the heavy shadows lingering on my eyelids.

they lynch the dawning of my unuttered words
when they're tightly sucking the inside of my throat,
they drag the fickle tremor of my shrinking gestures
and dim my pulse with their incongruous mouths.

they crave to steal me from this unavailing ground,
in mute suspension of space and time
and volatile rips of logic.
because my weary matter belongs to them,
in devout quantum entanglement,
dissevered from the coarse embodiment of surfaces,
like tenuous vapors absorbed in thin air,
like underwater creatures in their careless submerge.