Inlying rampage

                        Splitting pod beans between reason & passion.
                        Glitter of coiled anguish, blossom
                        Of oblivious, tarnished desires.
                        Is not a serpent but a slug
                        The damp shiver creeping
                        Beneath the lumbar vertebrae.
                        Sticky as indelible delusions.
                        There’s a dystopian belief that
                        Chasing eventually culminates in getting.
                        But how could this prickling tar
                        That solidifies heat, crushed in stream
                        Of vermilion, agitated, ecstatic globules in,
                        How could it mean
                        Release?
                        When the only tease
                        Tingling your tired, askew, tiptoed feet
                        Is the baffling, haunting feel
                        Of annihilating mill:
                        Grinding, grinding, unceasingly grinding
                        The ablaze scaffold beneath your flawed skin.

The photo’s source

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