on_the_wall
raze upstairs:

a centipede that only
moved when it wasn't
being watched, gone
when i most wanted
to see its segmented
body glide across
painted plaster.

two floors down:

a face ground
into the grain,
windswept mess
of thinning hair,
smile stretched
and strained,
bereft of body
and hovering
beside a heart
in freefall,
aflame.

here, now:

a duet for stain
and spiderweb,
lost in the mewl
of cool air fighting
to be felt through
dismal ductwork. 		260629
what's it to you?
who go 		blather
from