there is something on your
lips?
tracing hairline
evidence of disturbed sleep drying on
the pillowcase.
is it the saying
or the doing
that make the being?
that brings us to the
cold frosted truths
or further around in circles until
–doctor, doctor!
i am tangled
and bleeding violet
it’s a long lethargic
lukewarm patch
-the plateau
a drawn out chalky landscape
where the saying
and the doing
make the being
my time here
can not be measured
in clean sheets.
The Fate of Neutral Norway 