I
seem to be stiletto deep
Can’t
focus, looking through
A
sleep that won’t commit
Fully
to functions outside
It’s
fevered dormancy
Fountains
frustrate the truth
Sickling
out the weakest,
Pillaging
through a haze
That
won’t forget, that
Forgiveness
must be learned,
A
condition often a condition
Of
itself
I
seem to be stiletto deep
Can’t
observe, won’t stay
Still,
through a veil of damask
Lines,
purporting a truism
One
can never find, lost, completely lost,
Wholly,
completely wholly.
And
I wonder what’s the best I’m able to
And
I wonder what that would cost
