Monday, August 29, 2016

When the light is low

I swear when the light is low
I can see noise in the air
The air is the noise
And the noise is the air
Indistinguishable, I breathe it in
And I imagine the static filling my lungs
And what was outside is now inside
Indistinguishable, nothing has changed
In the air, in the character of the air
Except I imagine it has
Changed on an atomic level
The essence of the air, of the noise
Of the movement, of the flow
Of the atoms imaginary and real
When the light is low