I have darkened dents under my eyes - pH strips - breached with my own blood in self batter, crescent blue lagoons.

My blood is too-sweet-decaf-anscestral tea, collecting into pools of sticky primordial DNA. My personal queendom passed to me.

It is the citricity of the day that dissolves the thin boundary, the outside invading with chemical warfare and hot resolve

My inner land riots; "let it cease!" It fears disintegration, of non-existence. But substance can only change, not fade

So, I must fight the daymares, and return to my land with salt on my tongue.

© Eva Irvine