Groove

Stop.

Time fails with the movement,
needle caught on a ridge of silence.

Cuts the throat with a smoke knife;
dry ice and dripping heat,
coasting the flex of a sound wave.

Black light visions and
phantoms of chemical blood,
still for now, just now.

There is this split second to spin in the mind
with vinyl molecules.

There is no room
no space no time no

Start again.