sixteen years
how many times the hand-me-downs
laid graveside with gratuitous alarm.
unnoticed by the peers of second chance
one glancing blow
from the kingdom of imperial disease
through the proverbs of November
with a gift of stone
bringing light to the dark side of my skin;
a tapestry of colours
as bitter as a lemon on a breast.
a braille of air
for the mother of almighty
unpictured. marking time
neatly pruned
a chism for the blind side of a tongue.
what came the bastard son of ammonia and grease
a tumbleweed above anatomy;
once more to ice under canopy of scars
a world unseen by glass or neophyte.
dawns shadows in their dying days
in a red-dye mood
boiling blood in the urine of a shrimp.
where goes so shall I follow
playing solitaire with the yellow of my eyes
sucking on the fingers of release
watching as a world goes rushing by;