It’s all gone to vinegar again,
Spoilt in the late night sun and sick with bile and vile thoughts.
I writhe and persist,
A centipede cycle twisting ellipse to lemniscate,
Tangled and Gordian, unsolvable on a good day,
But it’s been awhile since the last one of those.
Eyes blurry and bleary and weary,
Pupils eclipsed by malformed lenses,
We bleed these blessings dry.
A million minutes of yearning,