Painters’ Exhalations 142
—after Amanda Dow Thompson’s A Long Sigh
Such is the thickened waist of fog disposition
lying heavily atop the wounded
specialized species of a funeral’s
appearance.
This open door to the dead escaped
into, across a threshold’s secret code
explains voices of terror blinding hyperbole
hiding within the exhale emotion of a sigh’s
excreting energy.
Say a window eye looks into an outside
brimming with a form of brilliant color
allowing for a shape to follow a horizon’s
finger traced straightness, too, splaying
among a contemporary reason to understand
distance—
but this window’s lifting to reveal the atmosphere of
calling, occurs as a never,
and the watcher maintains amid stomach
deep beginning, climbing throat into posited breath
a speech of discontent absent of verbal positivity,
the sigh, the body winding slippery around
its comprised, apathetic prey.
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