Sister
to be everyone we see we wish to be
spoilt infidelity was the fragrance
of our tragic continuum century
of longing longing thee
favored face dressed in
tailored knit smiles on Tuesday’s sin
oh father are we seen
as the misery kin
ants rise on Lilies
in the teary meadow land
we shall remain oh rightfully damned
Blistering coils of copper tension make haste
tangy veins peel back their mantle
to self inject a poison of good-natured taste
shudder of the mind
with fine paper cut wrinkles
we make fingernail grind to season the sense
breaking spoons for chains and stakes
head loss of screws
We should shatter the bones within him
And break the ill-tempered man
As we once found
Ourselves
Broken
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