Leave it to you the

You and I and we.

 

I give good as one can tender

I’m like thorn.

Vulgar thing cotton to.

Hatred is heavy on your breast.

Wine to tempest.

 

Thunder afar and lightning.

The desperate swept up.

I’m six corners.

This urban teeming

I raise alarm.

 

Let her tell it scared to death.

She’s through the narrows

where the condemned.

 

These night 

constant fete.

Always the gardens.

I sew alarm.

 

In the grips terror.

Days and hours.

until sated.