Treasure Hunting pt. II (Reprise)

Re-re-reread
every line I might find an answer-
matrices of verbosity
hints of cold causality
and the prosaic virtuosity
that can’t explain
or assuage

a crimson penumbra overcast
empty hands with hollow palms.

Catching glimpses of your tragedy
through tourniquet words that didn’t stop
the bleeding

and I
ache
for
you.

And now what’s left
just this
self-composed elegy
for sparsile hearts
that can’t
settle
down.

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2 thoughts on “Treasure Hunting pt. II (Reprise)

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