dreadwake

I am slidged body-bag my mouth
Cumaean sand
stuffed

armpits beat
bloody half-chewed hearts: the supra-

lapsarians’
befallened grace
rots its speciesed presence

with beat with pump. I
want Stinking Hellibore, Night-flowering
Catchfly, saviour Sanicle and more…

any thingbut this senicidal divisioning
of worlds material sudden
sheathing hope’s severe
narrowing
portal

beneath my nails
fixtures

a mini rictus
smart, swollen

logicality unwreathed how could I be
so bound so’as

adrenalin sickens lengthens its polished shesis
from whence I trapped you

I am in in sleepcreep backlash
babies dead about my boghair: I make
you pull

teeth