sever and broken all the world
all that’s loved, all that’s lost
all that searched through empty lots and ducked
all that slips through the night
like a broken playground dream

. . .and all that could have been, condemned and contained

like all the putrid of miscreation
. . .and all scorned with painful regretation

like all those born with a tortured soul

and all that are and all that could have been

I am your placid thought
hiding your wicked desire of plasticity
I am the trees’ haunting

. . . I am your forgotten, by all it seems
I am your ruined . .

Bury me inside your favorite dreams.