well it is after now,
the procession to white
all run out, spilled
on concrete at these feet.

hands at the neck
and throttling lilac.
androdgeonous
lain out porceline
in the grass, after touch
finding fingers too rough
or leeching capacity’s pallet,
whored out, it was a struggle
for the window.
tossed out for breath
coming to the concrete,
used petal simulacrum
cut by the window
sieve after touch,
after chaste waif contrast
‘gainst the grass,
finding blades and fallen
sky, in whole reflections
spilt milk’s broken mirror.

but it was after now,
the refuse gone, well
ground in.