I sense the light above me fleeting,
and in my vision’s only corner,
desperate eggs escape my mouth.
Into blackness, ice feels warmer-
balls of cotton swarm to greet,
torpedos bounce off my skin-
King Kong grips me in his hand,
and just before I shatter,
I close my eyes and breathe him in.
I mount the empire in descent;
I’m an alien in the graveyard,
or I’m a god.