[Heart/Apart] a poem

It’s scary to scatter
your heart into different directions,
unknown, unsure,
under-sided cohorts,
blasting patterns;
so I gorge myself with the
fading dim,
unrecorded light as it’s presenting,
tribute the decomposition to
the response of what then becomes the
“cry-wolf.”

-tasting the badly learned,
the sweetness of seasoned split peas,
wind-combed harvests,
arm-full symbols of eternity;

Now the fissures summoned,
perpetrated are adequately understood,
power and magic in majestic contortion



Dontrell Lovet't
from, [The Failed Writer]