Sifting

i emptied my heart, dug deep within, peeled off the layers of dust that smeared my life. i turn this way – the dust chokes my head. i turn that way – the dust swirls around, engulfing me yet again. my wound stings, my head spins, my heart aches. NOW! i watch helplessly as The Hand erases all the fingerprints from each page of lined paper. Existence is swallowed by the rag with which The Hand swabs viciously. the pine fragrance lingers. my wound raw, my head stuporous my heart sore.