Exponential Decay

by Birgitte Brøndum


Liquid and viscous,
you seep into cracks and crevices,
of wood, asphalt and frosted glass.
Then solidify and harden inside
a cast iron suit of armour.

Muted and rigid,
you listen to their muffled vowels,
and press towards your edges to feel
their carefully mapped out steps
vibrate inescapable echos inside of you.

Absent and detached
you dissolve into tiny specks of metal dust
polluting their all-in-one atmosphere
with the uncomfortable silence of bright light,
reflected. But no one notices, not even you.