sprout / wound

will you grow into this world,

the same way young sprouts

drift towards the same light? as they

prance eager, to dwell

in the settlement of

an ignorant youth – correct me if

I’m wrong, or my

speech to brash; but what

can you tell me of an undressed

wound; seared at it’s sides – a

whirlpool of red, swirling

into a metallic sheen.

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