With rottenness I am infected deep into the marrow
The skeleton is broken
All the tissue falls off
Like the tree of grief ready to fall
Down to dust
Of unclear origin
The last thing that fails is the sight
The sight panics in absence
Of interpretation
I am not alone less a self
Black-sighted given over to simple impressions
Like porous globes
My eyes are earth
Ready to see the ravens of space
Fly free in plaintive song
Toward the calm of dusk
Where I only feel relief
In the end the end is the end
In abandoned nature strewn where feelings
In peace when the flesh no longer exists
ca