she slit my wrist
because we knew
she would bleed
we
we're
sleeping

in
the
middle


of
her
dream

folded never creased
eliminated smiles
scent
of
the
deceased

an
other
scented
motion
blown
by
th­e
blowing

of
an
volcanos knows

melting down my sides
blood clenching fist
bleeding out
all
my
pride
she
slit
my wrist
?












...
..
.