words by dominic riccitello

sitting on ash
of what it was
a surround sound
deep in your living room
with swimming water
no body parts
in a mix
twisting under metaphors
of your arms around my neck
lying on our bodies
fighting intuition
of sensual salvation
in form of yesteryears 
untoward broken necks
and invisible emotions
we held our ground
ran without running
lacking self-control
in an oasis of ourselves
they say
you have ninety days
until you realize each other
at eighty-nine
i realized myself