02/11/2024

i am misshapen
i am sorrow and i am scarce
i will kill and heave myself back into place
before the morrow night;
before the ill-shapen dust in the mirror
hollows its face into me once more,
before i glance at heaving lungs,
before the trance achieves a tongue,
before imperceptively, i appear
before a crowd, and almost sneer
at all the heavy faces
and the unclear