Prism
Prism mind, speak me something.
Speak something hard and fast
past this dusty comforter
where my foot dangles, the cobbler's last.
I dip my fingertips into
hot wax candle pools,
let it cast around my nails,
then peel it away when the warmth cools.
I refuse to give myself credit
for such paltry desire
My flesh sulks in atonement.
“It was just a harmless fire.”
Bewildered suit when will you
mature enough to rip
from each limp seam
until your fabric slips.
The haze of “needs”
amuses my focus
like a cat fondling string
vapid and useless.
I just want my mind.
I will leave my body .
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