My smile sits curdling

In vehement neglect

Wicked eremite

Indulging imperfection

Violent against facade


I’m a pack-less beast,

Loyal to secrets and souls

But irascible

Within the fabrications

Of an elitist cabal


I prefer my pen

To company and dialogue

Journals to teacups

Words that on reflection

Discern without revising


You lie underneath

The lens of my hexed right eye

A stigma within

An oversight replaying

Prophetically without


The picture is me I was holding my hair back because it was swallowing the picture I looked like a moon being devoured by tentacles with it down lol This picture came out okay, I can’t tell you how often I look genuinely deformed in photographs.  Some tanka revealing some of my less desirable attributes!