This is not a poem.
Nor romance.
I don’t knowhow gently I have tobe touched now
Stranger visions stalled neither the cart, nor the horse. Nor the insect with whips for…
Separations as weak as the skin and boneslashing the drivers the great un-grouping a…
Thumb moves to halt the light from one eyepresses full through to the veinsand disposition models…
Don’t know what to do with the alarmwith the stress of this plague that puts additional pressure on an already cracking surface The eyes…
A poem
