Muse Rebirth

Hold fair;

the toxin juts shut
the elbow crease of a thousand year

slut. The shut case of the insomniac.
Probe the inner mechanism of the mind,

thin, thin silver sliver.
The spark of the hagridden night:

fear soothes it away, nullifies
the wisteria covered mind.

How long, how long has this been closed to me?

This pool: I shall say such slander.
Hidden in the bright starkness,

the ennui of summer.
Only the in the trails of cold pine crayon scent,

the adolescent murmurs clean touches.
The word is free, I am free.

The key, the junkie is the key.