A Process

by Mark

Candle lite created cracks
Buring candor into paper
which rest easily on mahogany
while you smoke your tongue
with aged moonshine.
Lick your fingertips
of burnt
Ash you render onto
clean lines. Lakes of
Clear smudges muddy margins
both creation and livelihood.
Butts  meant for the fernece
left to char out in the cold
as  lungs stiffen  hands
and work-whistles leave it
all to peel year over without
eyes to account.

-by Him

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