22. seldom

What did I say?

Feeling tracks a molten path through rusting reason.

Hot words smelt my tongue and wet my eyes.

I try to shrug, to sigh, to not mind – never mind.

But I’m stiff with it, high-tension wire and girders that rumble and shake,

Around a flaw, a crack that widens every day,

And splits at its silver seams into jagged rage and brilliant blight,

Drowns and devours, and fills my mouth with lead.

The End

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