Friday, February 23, 2024

Pen went through the wash

sunny day I found my eyes
overflowing with a dark substance

blood transfused with ink
dries but will not clot

on a highway feeling for
some hidden wound 
not tenderness
the promise of
explanatory power

send fresh bandages
up in smoke
signal for the wolf 
I have no kill

park in the usual spot
engine centered on old black blots
darkened room
red digits
tomorrow's alarm
a moment 
a measure
sound an unseen clock

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