No Way 

 

If only I could focus 

on the gliding of these thoughts 

over the enchanting machine of anxious grinding, 

a corset digging her ideas of doom 

into my ribs until I cannot breathe. 

 

If only I could glide 

enchanting and calm as a cloud 

past the incantations of friction  

between the graying moon  

and throbbing gulps for air. 

 

If only I could release 

the grip holding on to the relentless hope-- 

braided and knotted to a broken life raft 

that drifts into the deepest currents, 

tortured and tumbling 

with no words 

or texture of language 

to call for help. 

 

My back to the truth, 

I see all the exits 

and no way out.