Forlon [Poem]- Raeez Jacobs

I see the lines,
know my place
and assume a posture
against the grime-
eye shut, with words dribbling
at the end of the hook,

starved. as a slave
and then pressed onto
a coin
with the sounds inhaled
and held still
by the pangs,

and the shift
of domination
seeping, like an infant
through vast spaces,

and accommodated
inside sea shells
scattered across some
California bay,

dry from the sun's hand
and
broken as
I
here in the silence
with these dreams carved
to the edges
of the cavity.