confusion was emotion, mostly, never sex
which i found entirely straightforward
bruises & memory.
the brutality of memory is transparency
a laughing fish. ghosts
& the hopeless.
in the broken room we wear skull
& love. like Trakl’s old priest
walks the village square,
the children are an abomination.
there is so little shame in us,
everything we touch
One thought on “confusion was by David McLean”
Reblogged this on reubenwoolley.