(mis)Step 1: Ruminating

I was ruminating, recycling

your voice -No words just the brogue just the lilt just sounds of synonyms of us- in

my mind. Another

echo

brokenly bouncing in my mind, my mind.

 

My mind, sometimes, goes to dark places,

like

if hope is a thing with feathers,

let us strip it of its down

and barbecue it…

Eat that Emily Dickinson, you solid, me evaporating

ever ruminating, heart emaciated, self-worth depreciating

 

My mind, sometimes, goes to dark places,

and does not come back.

 

If I do not publish this verse i will discard of it as happens to maybe-beautiful things