Little Death Connections

Thought was a crime.

Intention was a tragedy.

We walked on literal eggshells;

life never to be

crushed under our feet.

The feeling,

so visceral.


Tied to that

Central Nervous System disorder,

chaos into the circuit.

Lightening shattered

thought-web lattice.

Each touch,

shudder and shake.

Body in spasm and gasping,

exhorting The Maker.

Pleading for more…

… but stop!

But more!

Oh, God more!




Cascading neurochemical waterfalls.

Crystal clear,

clean and awakening.

Eye opening shock back,

snap into reality,

snap into focus.

Then the wide eye

mellows in the afterglow.


Chemical receptors full,

tapped out.

Narcotic drift,

haze lifts,

replaced by subtle comfort

and warm body connection.


Gone is the moment,



A touch of God,

a ghost of memory.


The body bears the marks,

but the mind has moved on.


the memory fades

faster than our need for it.


We are chemical creatures

locked in a closed system

How we are,

who we are,

where we come from;

a brilliant display

of synaptic explosions,

bringing about the death

of one known universe

and birthing another.



in a deep, secret rhythm.


HG – 2017

Leave a Reply