…so if you (any­one) read this, I’m sorry. If I keep writ­ing, some of the rust might fall off, and then there will be entries wor­thy of your read­ing effort.

Fallen
and cracked
tho not bro­ken
but open and leak­ing
bleed­ing with­out weep­ing
the casu­alty of
a serendip­i­tous col­li­sion
with­out rea­son or rhyme
just a case of right time
right place
of trip-line
becom­ing tourni­quet
of mir­rors
fac­ing each other at mid­night
of wounds
meet­ing in a kiss
and becom­ing
words.