Oh silence hissing

Silent, arms and legs  akimbo, floating
In a cloud of photographs and files
I must not think there  is no solid  ground below
The act goes on but I ‘m not reconciled

 

No one speaks to me, the alien woman
I see the fence, invisible the door
Floating with my feet like hands  contentious
I   must not think there is no second floor

Silent with constriction in my larynx
Flying  with the wind an awful presence
Where the edges. where the strapped up artist?
Where the place such silence starts to lessen?

 

Floating through detritus, not existing
Not the journey ‘s end, oh silence hissing
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