echoes in the timid chamber

–

titian avarice

pulses in wait

preying on fresh drops

to fall from bleating gash

chest wounds

squirming artists

lost in the shuffle

–

voiding the hole of its precious fluid

purple as

their prose

leaching whatever granules of inspiration

diluted

or fermented over time

–

tigris euphrates

venous arterial

silt stream of

consciousness

all rivers

flow into one another

depositing debris