Vignettes II

Vignettes II

My crusts have been removed
Not even a morsel remains
Choke me down
With a glass of warm milk
Painting my supposed death
On a sheer sheet of silver leaf

I will fix you
If you let me
Peel back the layers
All the professionals
Are enthralled with
Meanings emerging
From the periphery
No answers,
More questions

She rules my mind’s dream
A being I can’t begin to explain
Perhaps if you consult
My psyche
You could nail her
Perhaps if you ask her
You could get your fingers
Around her neck
And squeeze until
You hear the truth
You expect

My truth contains
Dreadfully hot balls of
Flaming red and
Simmering blue
Mezmerizing, blazingly
Scorching their way
Through these walls of
Straw and clay
Melting my resolve
In to a mercurial
Running down the gutter


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