Climb on top,
and feel my systematic veins,
as they pump.
I walk through your body like
a first look at the sky;
I want to stream straight across
this glacier of a night,
to your door,
thousands of miles in milliseconds.
Take a different woman every time,
they all have my face,
my name,
they were all me,
in the suffering decline
of a tyrant's bent nose,
and you a fortress below.
Make them pant,
like I do,
lying tangled in the coursing torrents
of my own fingertips.
Let the violence of life collapse,
just for the length of a scream.
Words appear before me
on a screen:
"Go on,
do as you please,
oh, Infinite Being.”
–Georgia Lundeen, from spare
