MAYHEM - Issue Four

> Download Understand: Temporary

Aimee-Jane Anderson-O'Connor

Understand: Temporary

You are unblinking,
wet rusk gum cry.
You will not miss a thing.
Aluminium black
backed glass shows you
what you already know.
Reach out and touch the chartered,
obsidian slip.
You will learn absence
one vowel at a time.
Carpet fuzz crumbs,
fist your hands,
lull your tongue.
Powdered wrist
warm puddle.
Seize it in your hands
and watch it scatter,
bumblebee tick.
You will soon forget
copper pinched lungs,
sun lit cobweb,
these four torn walls.
Do not close your eyes for more than a moment.
You are an abundance of bone,
an unfractured,
cornered,
falling,
juggernaut.
You
are elastic.
Do not slow down.
Devour yourself from the bottom up,
one
toe
at a time.

Contributor's Note
Aimee-Jane Anderson-O’Connor is in her final year of a Bachelor of Arts at the University of Waikato. Her work has appeared in Starling and Tearaway Magazine thanks to the Waikato writing programme and the tireless support of some of the best people on this great watery rock.