Saw Paper Veins

Tear dust cocktail, burning

florescently down my hands.

Choke upon the moon's marrow dregs,

'cause I've forgotten

what I should've forgiven.

No apology could grace the blank draft

of what I should have never thought,

and I'll fold and shift my mind until

I comprehend every senseless thing it weaves

and hangs to dry for all to gawk at

and beat with their charity sticks.

I'll wrap up all her spider veins,

and smother summer-sticky breath

that keeps my feet from bleeding violet

and saw paper eyes green (with naivety).