my dried out honeycomb brain
nothing sweet about it
so sticky
tight as toffee
presently tense
craving, wanting worthless poison
prickling head of pins and needles
sew a seam of primitive stiches
'cross my high brow temples,
churches spire reeks heavenly havoc
emerging powerfully
dragging fear like lowly scum
to ooze on out
of every pour
I wish for more
of empty sweet addiction
but then the rain
it cleanses, quenches
runs through dragging debris
soon I hope
to see the light
my head relieved, refreshed
and when I look again
I hope to see
a pomegranate?
