A predicate

A poem dedicated to the infosphere

Photo by Jaye Haych on Unsplash

The coast is raining.
Its perimeters are pouring.
Surgical sutures across the land.

Melted cities
are summoned
to serve my shore.

My reality,
my hypertext,
my sense of need
the sense of my need
— don’t lean
don’t lean back to see
the unmentionable predicate
of uncountable absence.

Don’t be scared.
I’m not here.

It happens,
among us earthquakes,
that we forget
about the faults.