Journal poetry 2

this is no way to treat a body-

packing chest with mortar and stone-

laden vessel dragging-

sweating indifference-

they can smell a lost cause.

I wonder at their backs-

noses, mouths, cheeks meld meaningless.

I’ll epiphany your name at vertebrae, shoulder blade-

but I urge you, heart seekers,

disappear-

here, there are only walls…