Harvest

right when the rigging fell
the way of the water changes
and the waves cleaned up the
mess. i feel blessed. 

there is a lot of blood involved
in feeling free from each other
from me. there is a lot of bleed
involved in pleading for 
salvation. what a pest it makes
in the autumn, when all that matters
is the harvest.

there is a problem with the cells
they divided into red into white
oh god, a canada of formative 
feelings, when i was a little kid.

there is a chemotherapy that keeps
him away. there is a mask i wear when
i bend by his bed. i am an infection living
i believe, i could be the tip of the ice berg
and there i am, running. knowing something
is terribly wrong. 

i can't keep my hands to myself.
goddamn it. i can't keep my 

when i was ill myself, and laying quietly
waiting for my iv... 
there is a problem with the blood. it is 
not red enough.