Darkness

At 4 am, I've found my brain turns funny trick
crooked corners become wide-open valleys,
vaginal canals brought open, hot like bacon

 don't judge me for my words, but for my actions;
if you see this in print, then bring down your scorn,
 but for now. For now, notice the temporary state

 of these words, How they glisten on the page
and mirror your flickering eyes. How they exists
for a moment and then (flick) disappear.

We are all like this, waiting to be published,
 waiting to be born at 4am, to be discarded
from our flesh envelopes, to be removed from inside.