The Subjunctive Stem

I am not one of the beloved ones

I am just a blindfolded mute:

A senseless double-feature

Just a glossy voucher in the hand

Papercut, 

bleeding.

Easy to remember,

Hard to forget.

I do not have the aura

for the dark

I just reflect some light

once or twice a death

I am wirebound,

flexible,

and fragile.

I am not one of the begotten ones

I am just a drowned watercolor:

A volatile effervesant

Just a foreign memory in the brain

Ingrown,

infected.

Easy to slit,

Hard to stitch.

I do not have the spare

for the flat

I just shed some tears

once or twice a cæsura

I am vagabond,

mer de noms

and some more.

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