Sirens call out to sirens
in a language only they speak. My feet
feel an unusual gravity; attraction to the floor,
sinking. We understand
that language, some (even) try to shape it:
mouths, tongues
lungs emptying gouts of air
while so many start drowning. I think barefoot
would be better; but the nights, still cool
disagree. Eyes tear from hours listening
to livestreams, to silences somewhere
punctuated, but invisible.
Trying to walk in darkness;
balance gone unsteady
for the lack
of florescence. Lips part, the keen
a mimicry
this animal language trying to eclipse
machine.