Opened Wounds

Unpublished pieces

The opened wounds have festered again.
like thick and heavy drapes covering
the windows.

The flop of these is manifested
in a cataract brown blur.

The whoring trees have 
reviewed themselves
and concluded
they could last through
to Spring.

I must shed the black bark
to find the
scab peeled back.

Light a fire.
Put in incense.

Let it 

Lounging in a bedroom.
Door shut.
Window open.

Turning head.
Shutting down thinking.

In just a second
the fire will
reach me.

All my wounds will
be festering at that time!

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