sulken shadow
how I hate the smell
of the workhorse engine
coughing

damp coffins of preserve
glistening like frost lamp
fire

muses mine is away on
temptations strife
here on the island
knowing that to explore is
to find a shore with a sun
in a world of degrees
that great arc

Ive no hunger to look
longer through it
my fingers still like a cough
on the keys

a pulse shifting like a ripple
was that my shape
shifting? fuck the waterglass
demarcation and paste sticky stamps
my fingers are numb from care
and my stone heart fills an angel
of dirge this agony without
a wretched unkempt find

I shall retire for awhile
and hope this lifts
but the snow was beautiful
today the light falling
through me

I could feel as the words
cut to me
its why Im there