MRI + you and I

I hear your words overlapping,
Flashes of words, of lights, of eyes, of blank eyes,
Pages and pages of blank eyes,
everything never meant to be in a steel room,
I never knew overlapping and interjecting
Injecting flashes of noise through red ear plugs
As being conveyed through a tunnel, cold feet
Tunnel of noise vibrating my spine
Specifically my knee, penetrating flashes of noise
Like overlapping language, and I close my eyes
To flashes of noise and lives I won’t miss,
And think about the poems, the words,
The poem that makes me hate words
Because words repeat, life repeats,
Unreceptive tunnels that convey me through
cold isolation of steel rooms,
I think about what stood out in a steel room
While incendiaries stole fire, flashes of agitation
Those were her words, the words that make me hate poems,
‘I miss him and my mind is not upon the Pleaides,’
I, too, miss him and my mind aches for the Pleaides,
My favorite him of the sky, and him of the earth,
Who overlaps earth and underlaps sky, being conveyed
Through a noise tunnel with flashes of cold feet aching to move,
It was the cold that put me in the tunnel,
Blank tunnel of noise and flashes of eyes,
The ice, light, flashes of flesh,
The cold that made the ice capable of cracking
Parts that I need, parts of my knee,
Overlapping noise, mouth words, incessant noise
That pours and misses the tunnel of reception, red ear plugs,
It was his cold that sent me down the mountain
Overlapping ice with cold feet,
And cold feet because canvas is never thick enough
Skin is never thick enough, thick like steel rooms,
To overlap the languages, the flashes of language
That make me hate words.