the clang of the dust mongrel

the clang of the dust mongrel
bangs inside my rib cage
suffices as evidence to my anxiety
drops to bottom in hara

content I should be in the
space in between
messages suspended in time
as it falls away, reaching toward
later in the day
as I get further and further
distraught; detached in my dissociation

feigned ersatz abandonment
impatient as a child

others are not like the one
do not occupy my mind
create not unease

i cannot control response time
i cannot control the sentiment

reason beyond all reason
eludes me

as in my mind i am evaded and pushed to the margins
my liminal body requiring agency
the need to be seen and reinforced
as if there was a question to the case in point
as if the reality of what is felt did not endure

assumed to be on the outskirts of mind
yet ornamented truthfully at the fore
decadent, defiant.
At the core.

Bright like the sun shines through darkness
the mongrel transmutes into a radiant light;
a beacon of well being.
it cannot cope without me within these borders
it sputters, fades
and dissolves.