intangible

This is how I say goodnight. This is how I say good morning. Quiet symbols waiting for a screen. A few scant letters bolting through the atmosphere. A thin web of electromagnetics our omnipresent tongue. Waves of slick ciphers sieved through nimble machines. The ghosts of ghosts our heralds and our voices. This slip before the great separation. This votive scant offering to the coming numb.

The moment marked, the strain between my shoulder blades, black coffee bitter on my breath, the droning fan and the earnest television. The moment replicated, these sinewy incantations that thrive in our urgent hearts, the addition to the entity. These tellings that uncoil inside us. The inevitable surrender to the narrative.

The sizzle that they sell us with. The mystery they mirror and smoke, the message they approve. I’m another set of proclamations, the thick of the signal, the turn of the reel. I loose another few bars of incantations, all my birds set on the line. The words turn the clockworks. This magic bent on spec.