sapping the faith from dust, i was ever wise.
a chipped tooth in a broad smile of a worm
on a rainy day.
you had your petri dish of phantoms and a small stake
in talking ravens... i had your god in my basement.
sapping the viscous chill of your willows
amongst proof that no rabbit has a hole enough
to **** Alice.
just a frame of reference more dangerous
than a rainy day
for a puddle
of sun

and strange mints.