Jesus Spliced

Oh the pressure, the pressing repression
constantly aware of possible repercussion
four points of friction barely clinging
the ringing stinging impact and sudden
concussion, pulled in ten directions at once
lurching deep in the pit of your function
no program could prepare you for this
terrible lack of gravity as the seconds are split
out of control sideways and then the next
neck and neck and snapping your head
eggshell on glass, the dash and the damned
wheel in your white knuckle hands, at last
slowing the floating sensation, a new direction
flat footed and beyond comprehension, full steam
ahead, compaction and a loss of traction
for but a fraction of a refracted second chance
cosmic dance on the black ice back sliding red eyed
shaken, stirred and yet still
calm at the heart of the storm.

No one heard and no one saw
did it really happen?
Was that a glimpse of heaven
or a vision of a hell to come
so completely undone
upside down, spinning wheels
by the side of the lazy river
heart ragged and head racing
catching up to what we had done.

Colours brighter than Christmas lunch
assail me on all sides,
cold shock comfort
in the blazing heat lamp sun
fingers twitching crooked and numb,
azure blue and an image of you
pounding rush of returning blood
the grass feels soft and warm and holy
and nothing can scare me again.

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