The Fantastic Toes

HOLE IN THE FLOOR

 (words by Tony Rasmussen)

Dusty dreams, regrets renewed,

silk worm knots of worried thoughts.

 

Things we should be never will,

crowd my head, things unsaid.

 

And there’s a hole in the floor,

a pearl in the undertow,

only to rise when sleep fills my eyes.

 

Doom suspends a golden wire,

give some slack and take some back.

 

Warp and weft of who we are,

stained in red with skins we’ve shed.

 

And there’s a hole in the floor,

a glow in the ossuary,

phosphorus green where earth meets the stone.

 

A vessel to hold,

the bones of the long departed,

bore in the stone, a place for myself.

 

Pulse lightly,

thumb pluck the tine,

stir the night air.

 

Pull back your bow,

feel the poised

press of nothing.

 

I’m lying awake just sucking air,

a buckling weight I cannot bear,

I’ll wait for the cool collapse to find me,

me and no one else.

 

Sacred space,

leave no trace,

enfold into myself.