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427th Weekly Poetry Contest winner: My Mind is Chained to You

by Mohamed Sarfan

My mind is chained to you.
You move and I am yanked off center,
staggering. Each of your words
is caged in my chest
nibbling and gnawing there,
sawing incisors
slicing raw nerve-screens.

I can’t see the sky
you’re interposed.
You weep
through my eyes.

Conjoined. Conflated.
I live in the conjunctive.
I breathe without pain
when you allow me to –
when some vortex in the field
of your vast gravity slacks,
and I’m permitted
a second’s respite.

Your phrases, your
ideas, pepper my gut
where they burn
small hemorrhagic holes.
Some sparks and spices
sting still from last year…

Unaware, utterly unaware
Of your god-power, you
toss off thoughts
and my lowest
most vulnerable membranes
pay the price.
I am your target
bristling with your arrows
you fail to see you’re shooting.
The legs of a target can’t
run away.

I am St Sebastian, bound pierced and
writhing, awash with blood.
All I can do is watch your eyes
for a clue to your next shot.
But (though every word-arrow
finds a pain node)
you’re not aiming.

See all the entrants to 427th Weekly Poetry Contest