now

At first, it is like gauze over my eyes
then a sheet, some­thing, over my face
grow­ing thick­er, stickier.

Heavy, heavy
the white light comes through
more and more yellow
shapes round­ed, made indistinct.

Wrapped close my ears now
wrapped and my name,
if that is what was said,
comes to me muffled,
im­pos­si­ble to re­spond to
surely.

I can­not push forward.
I’m en­veloped, bound close.
did I make this thing?

My pa­tience twitches
and now, worse,
with me here
press­ing against me like love
with an ur­gency flick­er­ing like
love I have these small
and bent-back
velvet-edged
wings.

a poem. just cuz it seems ap­pro­pri­ate. <3

aside:
i’m get­ting a bit of the cur­rent per­me­able-mem­brane vibe from this paint­ing-in-progress (above).

—lau­ra hohlwein

Flom­mist Lau­ra Hohlwein is a con­tem­po­rary ab­stract sur­re­al­ist. Copy­right © 2020 Lau­ra Hohlwein.

MOR D’ARTÍCULOS  MOR FLOMM !

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