Pain Gardening
I closed my raw eyes
to suck upon this –
but drew too much
to hold my breath –
the spin off his wrist
of an over-spun stone –
pitched at my forehead –
he took me down –
of the shrill sharp slice
of a buried wheat chaff –
which burnt to screams
making me blind
And then I exhaled
to kill each instance –
a brief mis-direction
of my complaint