IV.
Virtual stabbing wounds
of the disoriented neurons.
The uniformity of a sound
through the whispering bravado.
Mind melt on the bun
blue rare steak a la mode.
Deteriorating time
on the moldy pancetta.
Stomping boots on the streets
whistling sound of fall.
Rustling leaves on the wall–
days go by.
Emerald eyes on the other end
of the rabbit hole
Open wooden box at its bottom.
You lay your hand on my forehead.