+++
title = 'Sokolovs Cindering Nerves Poem'
date = 2024-07-09T22:32:33-04:00
draft = true
tags = ['']
+++

Last night She came and left col ‘n stole cardboard bones
held consecrate with devastating lust for non-existence of the mind
only a self-employed prisoner poet could know having been wryed against the sky
	when he knew Why
the house of hanged never seemed sane like digitally processed veins.
