Puckered oxford shirt, played up
pipe, hands in pockets casual
shrug, stand apart from
green tinted ecru, dingy blue
congealed russet smelted
onto a form—your flat face
pulled from a fairytale or a book
on fungus—eyes a flick
of the knife, titanium
white veils: blank, gritty,
glowing annulments. Taking
touch out of texture, damaging
dimension, drawing you is like
drawing decay, creating
just to destroy.