Wilderness

You who are wild with soliloquies, bring me the silence of your dead. See, my doubt snakes through the contours of this inimical land. Where are the pacified? The litter of this city? Carbon in moonlight, the song that won’t sing rips out my throat. Sometimes I dream that I am born under the flow of continents, entombed in citadels where land and sky fold with the relics of my mind. And when I wake, when I wake…

All I want is oblivion.