filled: secrets harden the walls

this measures it
the head ticking
counter clockwise
reflexive,
waiting for the fragment
past to become
whole, (again) contacted
pure- she said: love
like bar soap
or afternoon
chocolate
dry goods
the stuff
vary named
in parcel
i want that package love
(again) but i know that-
that bow box is
stuffed with wax lipped
words, powdery and soft a
brutalizer confection
it laughs its injection,
deep swells the bolus
and nothing-
but dry fever and editing
this (again) bachelor's room
tight as scripted ash
sick with
moldering pansies
and crazed plates
all muck and mild lather
caps blown off pens-
double measure, tranquil
caffeinated leasure, its walls
coated in dawn and resin,
a place for a dusty heart
to cough and bother where
memories die and gather
under unwritten letters.