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04 Silver Fracture

Cold stone drinks the damp like breath held too long Single blade of light cuts the gray Mirror hangs like punishment, silver skin gone wrong Cracks smile wider every day White mold blooms where fingers used to trace Frost that never knew the sun I stand before the glass and lose the shape of my face Something else is almost done The reflection blinks when I don’t The air behind the glass is wetter, older, wrong Reach — black fingers split the liquid silver Ripples birth where stillness used to lie You press from forests made of vertebrae and shiver While I forget which side am I Which side am I Which side Spine-trees twist without a sound Ribcage branches claw the fog Every root remembers blood it never found Every leaf a scream dissolved in bog Leather mask drinks in the moonlight’s absence Needles long enough to thread a soul You wear the coat that smells of wet abandonment And still you reach — still you reach — still you The wall is sweating through the cracks Reality leaks out in beads of black Reach — black fingers tear the liquid silver Glass forgets how to stay hard You press your soot-stained palms against my shiver While I forget which side we are Which side we are Which side …do you feel the mold growing under your tongue? …do you taste the frost when you say my name? …something in the reflection is already older than the wall that holds its frame Reach — the mirror weeps in mercury and terror Fingertips dissolve the final lie You’re not reaching out — you’re pulling me in error Now both our faces wear the needles’ eye Wear the needles’ eye Wear the needles’ Silver fractures singing low One side sane, the other — no One side sane The other — no Which side am I bleeding from? Which side… Which…