Exposure

there is a burn

and I turn my head

scouring for the source

of the scourge.

there is a worm

in the sand of my soul

buried but squirming still

my feet are fleet

yet beat

many a mean dark street.

there hides a smoldering blaze

behind that lowered gaze

flames will not be doused

\stone sober or slightly soused\

though I pour forth milk

of kindness

froth overflowing

the scorch extinguishes

not

 

I run for waters cool

submerge my charr-ed soles

whisper to the ill-used worm

revert, don’t turn

return

4 thoughts on “Exposure

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