Still Newborn
eratio postmodern poetry edition
I sit between two fragments of me —
an accused, apologetic laughter, spent by details of landscape.e
I chew my fingers all morning before writing.r
In the war of Solitude, it is necessary to cinch every honor.a
And so, I seat myself between two possibilities —
a vision of before and after.t
This laughter, these contingencies, imbibe and conspirei
to murder this black sun.


Comments: 6
Sent a major frisson through my spine, your sinuous phrasings where the bifurcation moment nears.
Wicked, truthful, decadent, sad, real.