A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Monday, April 05, 2021

One Cold.

I am one 
cold emotionless sum 
of an itch you could 
scratch all night 
and awake with blood- 
streaked sheets, without even 
touching my depths.

Like your childhood
dream, I can sink deeper yet. 
Subcutaneous, down epidermal 
and in, I command "dive, dive"
as I break your skin 
from the other side.
Into muscle and meat,
as your organs grind wide
to be rid of me. I descend

to bone. 

At the marrow of you, 
I have sunk my stake 
into something true, 
but as dead phantom false 
as I am,

you need

just to dig
and to rake
by hand, away
endlessly full fathom 
straight up, from the surface 
of you. I can feel you saw,
and picture the rough jagged
widening cut. I can sit in your

bones,
safe 

and lap it all up. Vibrate
to your strum. Verse 1, 
verse 2, and a chorus 
refrain from the heart 

of you.

I go quiet. Go numb. 

You scream with relief!
But the itch

is not gone, only bored

to sleep.   

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