The murals of my mind lack the malleability to be words.
I condense and concuss and roll the pin with hopeful force.
S. C. A.
Tt. E. Red.
Sha. T. T. Ere.
My own life’s blood turned streaks for clay to absorb.
Clumsy breaks the weakest bonds to settle on my floors.
Oh lawdy don’t let mah babies die like that no more.