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