11×18, pencil, watercolor on paper


and whirling in gusts of uncertainty

I search for a mooring to ground
the need for safety and soothing
numbing and comfort
in laps of disgrace

tingles of bitter thrill
palpitate from
an empty core

a vibration with no source and
no one
left to blame
I face each filament of projection
with scrutiny
and swallow them down

weaving secrets like magick
to anchor me





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