Varied Things

It was like a mitosis
that had a slender frame

a glass exhibitionist

beckoning to touch

Sin tastes good in the mouth

a fulfillment of the belly

a disease of the spasmodic soul
I was littered

a grain in the field

a powder on the cheek

lights on the bulb

electric skin

eeled heart

mouth waters

cherries plucked

dust unwavering

water

it all makes a thin net

breaking like fog

all rhapsodies

a shadow listens

to

these

writing

in stains

in eyes

in souls

in earth

quenched by all

that

dies