Trial of Sabrina
Trial of Sabrina

Crowns are parts of heads,
like an ingrown toenail,
blood and pus are one linger.

Reality is a ghost's cousin,
always in some association,
a blueprint and a yellow highlighter.

Love between mortals and others
more confident in death leaves,
in that stumpmarked book of already

blood, the radical inclusion of diversity
neither satanic or false godly.
Only between the young

is love a pact spelled backwards, still
past the burning ancestors' screams,
hanging like witches and slavery.

"I AM the Great One,
and I bow to no one.
And no one bows to me."

Love lasts enough to kill.
This truth is in your magic,
or we wouldn't need it.

"Reality is a ghost's cousin..."


" Only between the young
is love a pact spelled backwards..." 

love/evol (evil) is simply fantastic

"This truth is in your magic,
or we wouldn't need it."

Thanks for weighing in
on a dark day in America.

I know you feel it- the pain.

I feel everything I think about.

That's why I'm so good at writing fiction, and a terrifying experiencer of shifting realities.

I never lose track of consensus reality society shares, but feeling is more powerful than logic. I know, being a Cancer. 
(Did you get the joke in that last sentence?)

But it's with the words of the thinker Adrien Monk that I conclude this comment, It's a gift and a curse.
(05-27-2022, 05:03 AM)rowens Wrote:  (Did you get the joke in that last sentence?)

I did not read it as a joke.
Jokes don't have to be nonserious.

And I didn't mean the last sentence in my poem.

I meant the line about being a Cancer.

You may have known that. But, of course, all possibilities felt equally valid.

And still do.
(05-27-2022, 05:10 AM)rowens Wrote:  I know, being a Cancer.

HA! Now that joke I do get
I've pruned one or two words off the side of some of my poems over the last three months.
I took out of actuality from the ingrown toenail line of this poem.
Of actuality makes sense in the context of what I'm saying in the poem, but what makes sense to the writer of the poem is not always best for the poem.

Crown and nail are enough.

Royalty and ingrown nails are implicit in the very definition of implicity. According to the redline, implicity isn't a word. Well,


it is.

Sometimes you need linebreaks to christen a


,that depends,

on What your poetic license has on its plate. 

A blueprint is a scheme, an accepted reality. A highlight is what is or what keeps coming up whether or not about what is but what is experienced in that highlight
in this case, a cousin of what is, which is something, otherwise there would be no relevance of a ghost of it.

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