The Absence of Wavelength

River

What you call Wounds
I call experience
That in due time,
when you cease bleeding —
that Seems to make you rush,
Flush with Rage judgment —
         Hold yourself,
if none will Touch,
         Bar you from loathing
Whatever you must,

Before you stream down A river
of life,
bypass every tributary,
Every entreating eye brightened
By your gleam. Winter
Will freeze. Slow,
Before clouds claim back
Borrowed tears.


5.25.22
6.26.22 major add, edit, out of private,
still needing work, trying to turn it into something as if by accident