I dwell in the spaces;

between two rib cages,

facing each other,

heaving in a nonrhythmic unison.


But I dwell in spaces.

My name is disconnect.

I grow slowly,

and then, all at once.


I dwell in spaces.

I fester with time.

And feed on distance,

between familiarity and nonchalance.


I dwell like moss,

in the deepest of bottle greens;

bottled feelings,

bottled fright.


I dwell,

in moist eyes,

in a friend’s voice.

In the quiver in that voice.


I go unnoticed.

I make you go blind.

My name is disconnect;

unchecked, I’ll survive the test of time.