heat

i write along the edges of a thing i cannot name
a species without a way.
in or out of itself. a kingdom falling
undone. both building and retreating.

and it is sorrow-filled and it is lonely
and i am drawn into its melancholy

when the light dims just right
inside.

my selfish useless prayer. beads of sweat
and
obedience.
to eat and drink and know of this thing.
the center of which. i may never

even touch.