Saturation comes in quiet realizations blanketing the soul you left behind/ in haste on annunciations of your lack of caring/ of giving a shit about the effect it had on you— to jolt you like a wicked bolt of lightning/ into a reckless oblivion a mainlining of pure rage/ into your veins/ then lost to that perpetual joke of a chase/ of the good life. Hell—the saturation blessed you/ it pummeled into you an existence of God/ God in your way/ slow/ steady/ feeling the pain not by happenstance/ by southwest by 66/ but by love— it saturated you like a slow-moving train an experience of electric/ shooting into me/ a wave/ of enlightenment saturating my brain/ unlike all those moments— I neglected to care for/ back in the day.
©Jay Mora-Shihadeh
revised 1-21-22
Photo by Elia Pellegrini on Unsplash
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