Desperate Epiphanies

Photo by christopher catbagan on Unsplash

Or you can just tell me —

when even life discovers it’s a construct

when even the universe realizes it’s a word

when even rage understands it’s a mirror

and the only truth

of which we, she, he is certain

is pain.

Or you can just tell me —

beat me if you wish

shed my skin with the hymns of your cane

hurt me

I know of no other way to experience you

to feel you

to know you

to vocalize your name.

Or

Or you can just tell me.