currents incur

she spun in a trance. slow and deliberate,
feeling where her body ended and the atmosphere began,
between feeling and the potential to.
the birth and death of everything in the arbitrary lines.
those crooked cursive scratches on the bathroom walls of time.
electric current coursing through the synapses,
the hot sticky air,
the torrents of breath,
the ensemble tale,
awash with the mist of evaporate both of sweat and drink.
the way she moved had once been described as apocryphal.
her heavy steps, looming and cataclysmic,
with a weight unlike anything physical,
like something wholly extra-biblical.
the intensity, birthed by deliberation,
hung heavier than any odorous perfume.
the intent, salvaged from desperation,
spoke louder than any preoccupied patron.