128. Untitled (Myshkin, 2021) · quatrains

To walk alone at dusk brings out the crows And bats and other creatures of the night I drink the poison everybody knows And hide what’s never been in mortal sight. There’s power, magic and the greatest terror When hearts entangle with a sun that spits. How do I know whose face is in the mirror, And how to fade the form that never fits? I empty, concentrate, to meet my master I’m taken by this power from within The beast attacks the quail; I’m looking past her My heart is heavy and my patience thin. Don’t teach me what to do and how to follow! I’d rather choose my grave and dig it hollow.