Living,
in the wounds...
Partly stripped, head shaven
for a royal revelation of eternal scars...
To live or not
to live like a zero...
Shadows of branches
furred with green buds stark against...
If a gadget turns
you on, and I cannot...
The dry air pulls my breath eastward
where desert calls in earnest yearning...
Patenting the human genes;
fence-sitters...
The opaque civility
takes a big toll. The fledglings...
Partly broken
They crumble...
A fact of time. The
relationship...
Fill me up with shame
Empathy a game...
And with the dawn, comes many things to cast away...
The smell of bacon, car horns, an alarm to give...