from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (58)

the day to day distorts

easier than cataclysm

they bend like fun house

mirrors a reflection

of a persistent truth

rather than shattered

into shards to slice

the skin into tatters

the blood seeps beneath

a blasted bit of bone

one seduces

like a lullaby

one 

a merciful kill

(April 29, 2020)