This
place
steer
me
into
the
open
breeze.
Smoke
myself
into
avenue
obscure
then
fall too.
Make a
ground
where
I have
lost I’ve
found.
Here
brambles
crack;
worms
crawl
in soul,
black.
Shelves,
books
you’ve
read;
feed me,
dear
before I
dead.
Take it,
a hand.
Give a
place I
stand.
