Kerri Shying R # 490 - we are fish in the same tank loiter in the weeds

bite of ink-filled needles   taught me to relax

no way out   around    just through    the separation

of the minutes   into everything  but    stop

I sit reading on the kindle    take the leg of the

man  prone  across the room  for compass

we are fish in the same tank   loiter in the weeds

I love     inside the odour    of the parlour

swathes   of colour       black dripping

on the film  Vaseline  set down across each line

of my new created wound    I am permission 

taken  just about as far     as it can go