iii pretenses

the fresh wound
     me to climb
     to sing      I

cannot tell whether the door is valid
     or if it just pretends to be near

spring pretends to know –
     the jar of heaven
     tells a tall story

I listen      the ink
     dries sooner than
     the parchment can

say goodbye      I listen –
     there is a night some
     where willing to

be stone      there is a
    need sometime to be –
    there is always time

an unflower pretends –
the grain of resistance
     slows down the intake
     of bloodalcohol

as you slump into an un
dead sea      you wake up
     to unknowns      we talk
     of blood, alcohol