try
gothic ghosts such rough passages;
if
under lights so unbuilt or if to smile
split
in twain while running an ore mile;
such
lithic ancestors such death’s ashes.
it
was art to pain such math by trauma;
those
days so tender accursed for time
as
measured by night such raw rind
if
imagined seeping lowly by momma.
a
woman as underneath a numb ache;
such
beautiful knee fearing prayers
such
mats, waters, or gut-bled layers
by
erumpent underpinning ink-fate.
so,
love or life or haven after dear fame;
in
debt to path or church or dear shame.
