Atlantics

We are the colorblind
following the reflection
into the river
of the black gods
holding onto mirrors
"oh this is my boyfriend"
not at the end of the night.

You project a best foot forward
stepping down the spiral
of the deep city.
fathomable pressures
decompress youre seemingly solid
exosekeleton.

Iron clad man
breathing nitrogen
and hearing voices
from older places
air supply insufficient
collapsed throat
and cold sweats
my chest hurts
and i cant feel my leg.
grabbing at the absence
looking for a light
at the bottom of a glass.

You rise too quick
and you feel your organs explode
with the elecrtic eel wrapped around your neck
the halo is becoming more apparent
like a fire escape
to catch a breath
on the other side
of the heart monitor.

Call me to collect
my bones
from the trenches of your bedroom floor
when i roll off the bed
and onto the old.

a species lost.