Every time I inject
there is the passing
through that scene
from childhood
six year old eyes
seeing her body
being torn open
beneath the front
wheels of a lorry.
A tiny schoolgirls life
ended there upon
tarmac smoothness.
Life would only
get better along
a pathway avoiding
passing over smooth
tarmac thought days.
Relaxation into bliss
of woolly mundanity
takes away sharp
edges of necessity
until.