I
awoke to a single calm
I
bled fast until the ring was gone
Traffic
patterns
Of
triumvirate’s wail
In
pastel, my inner river floods—
To
harmonize the many hours spent,
Amidst
enchantment’s bell
Caravan—
Ravenously
bleeds,
Lost
in the moments, in the while spent,
When
I left to relieve the most basic of needs,
Left
to curtail, the spurring ache
That
continuously writhes in me
As
I followed the steps I’d made
Back
to the coven of my peers
Brushing
back the pine that sways
Unlocked
the key, and swiftly in slow-motion,
The
gates closed behind me—
Opening
a passageway,
To
some demonized reality
