in the darkest hours of my night
she comes to me
like a muse
no regard for my slumber
so I wake
woke I stay
labor away
fingers bleeding
skin to bone
inspiration strikes
only
on sleepless nights
to be hashin at:
marking this paper
pulp marred with my words
drink desecrated with my image
plural like I have become
mind splicing to new
fractals like i
fractals as i
never ending
no beginning in sight
