, , ,

f you knew me at noon

and you now know me now

and the radiating smell of my hair.

It will show you my sake and the

laws writ for my wake, a dive into

the lake of my abstention.  I swear

that the lives of the foreign are not

worth what they want.  My silver has spoke

about the gold that she knows, how the

slivers of tombs are not of wisdom.