see and say - poem

Weed branching green
yellow heads
baroque
I think of crowns.
It’s a brooch
it’s an inheritance. Everyone’s
afraid of death. The light
’s like sand
out the window. Summer rain
and a little
cold. Lace
and complex tree.

Keep waking with a shock.
Thumbprints for eyes. What
is it you want that makes you hurt? Walk away.
Cry sensation
of objects on your
hand.
Underwater, stone
summer air,
pocket. Don’t work.

In the mirror stabbed my throat repeatedly
and washed my face in the blood. Instead
made another coffee.
Feet
flower in bed against sheets, skingasm.
Half awake. Weighed
my wings. And yours. Pinned
and corset.
Sorry for that. Days
bruise in careless weeks
indistinguishable.