One year later
since i have written here.
and nothing is any different.
She is still
the constant prayer upon my breath
the bleeding wound that leads to death
the face that floats upon the dark
my memories
of nights in parks
The only one
who moves my soul
now lost forever.
and I awake
September chill
and rain and gray
and fevered dreams
within me play
that unsettling shift in frame
when a virus is to blame
and my very body
is not my friend
lungs hurt
house of dirt
I can not win against
these odds
and no comfort is there.
