cloistered mud & empathy

held it in the prism of my hands
meltint between my fingers, ginger
hair and rootbark. always going over
the pasts we never had, always going on
into the futures we won't live. this is how
a writer defers. le rouge et le noir.
scandals revisited as duochromes.
stained genes on a slide. where will
the little ball land. i asked you
how it might be ten years from now.
incredulous eyes turned tin eared.
mouth of a framer. i understand more
than i did then but meh, i still don't understand
much beyond the body and what it holds.
le noir, in its most cavernous. le rouge
de la beheaded. i mix my languages
like metaphors sprouting syntax but am only faithful
to one. i once was piece of dirt
to this i will return, pearl me not, peal me never
i want to feel like this forever.