Wordle #104

The dawn comes-a needle crouching-
between her fat red lips,
ready to shore up my diversions.
Chrysalism rivals the Medusa,
frozen like the hands in photographs
I drift in and out of causality,
a scream suffocated by distress.
–
I’ve eaten the fruit
of every tree within earshot,
even the necrosis.
Money reviles everything,
it is the salt in my bloodied mouth,
the lie behind the cosmetic and sectarian.
All that’s left is sleep
though she is too particular to achieve.
–
I am a terrible student
sparse of yearning
and utterly indignant.
Homework, tests, euphemistic propaganda,
if I stay I might never get out.
I’ve tasted the brine of my lineage,
the cold thuggish tears which roll in
without invitation.
The sweat of an Irish mother,
of a brutish father both unmentioned.
I too am unmentionable,
the nothing into which somethings are passed.
I am in love, I am riddled and wild
there is nothing anonymous about me.
I am seldom seen behind a panel of silk.
–
I have no inclination to confess
however, vast or grievous my sins.
I am only one person, heavily peopled.
The light does nothing to arrest my sorrows,
each month is shorter than the next
and I am afraid that I might die
without impregnating a single silence.
–
With my one good eye and my frown freshly pinned
I could be the contents of a whole library.
Where’s a good book when you need one?
Where’s the lacquered box with reels
of uncooked fish and mounds of sticky rice?
If I could fill myself
I’d be sure to leave room enough for air.
If I could create as a mother tends her womb,
giving the best of herself,
dying just a little in the process
I might be worth mention.
I no longer write, I bite off bits
of my sorry, incredulous soul
and feed them, half-chewed,
to strangers with equally garish scars.
–
I am having a lot of trouble transferring my data from one computer to the next. Why must I use Windows?! Also my spellcheck is missing, Windows is having trouble understanding my bilingual settings.