the search continues for the halfland

maps of the greatest courts - sentient and grey

mattering to the masses

for some reason. inexplicable.

to think, behest to grow in comfort and stability,

we ache to be fine. like a woman's corset

in ribbons and bone, straight against the onslaught

of interaction. interim. betwixt. my teeth born

in fang over porcelain and petit four

and she flashes her diamonds in a photograph

bitchy at being bested.

growl at me.

but saviour of self: do you deny

the grip of the hand which preserves

jams and jellies?

indeed.

my cunt so full of you i swell into life,

yet it is not you, per se - your girth irrelevant

just my ears hearing

the fastidious winds, blowing.

not him or he or they. just me, and my dragons.

spine steel, and whip cracked.

where is it. in a tower or an actress.

a rapper raps but a writer.

a writer's heart pumps ink: recycled through the heart

a purifier of the toxins.

i died at the bite of the snake, a silver tongue,

and slept until my system charcoal poemmed

you out. again and again. a helix of hate and copy.

i am unsaved except in the dust.

ⴲ.