Lying Still

the flies of time have laid their eggs
inside our love
passed away beneath the air's putridity.
all that moves a single tear--
gas evacuates the corpse;
familiar of a scent as we--
the gestures of the heart's emotive
to the pulse and tick,
in all the clocks we've damned to move,
a pestilence in space.

JM Gant

A New Jersey born poet, author, and editor. Arch Linux enthusiast, and self-confessed data-hoarder.

  • USA - New Jersey