by mickharris

sometimes in cheesy 80s movie

the warrior

lifts his arm to the sky

lighting spikes through fog

music swells

his sword glows


there is an inverse of that

giving bolts of energy to the world

sudden and painful


the fog lifts

a girl stands


my shoulder muscles twist, bunch

hot torqued striated abused flesh

sparks of pain zinging down my arm

into my wrist

this is the only way i know i am a system

an aggregate