Swirling hot cinders
Atop the ashtray,
Revisiting the icon
Of a different me,
I ask myself in dismay:
How can this be?
How can this be?
Feral,teratoid seeds,
Inguinally sowed
Into my frame,
Are germinating rhizomes
Bequeathing your name
To a buried strong room.
The unsightliness
Of fresher ventures,
Births a dark refulgence,
The sin, the blunder,
The nectarous indulgence...
Like twigs of
Blooming cedars
Touching - tongue in cheek,
Our hands intertwine,
Seconds burn,palms leak.
And in this vertigo
I lose myself complete
Adopting monstrous senses,
So glum,so sick...
