Ibuprofen

Recapture last night’s

pointless victory,

mouth full of mould.

You slumbered already

in the furrows,

typing out

your reliance. Rediscovered:

the taste of oil

and cinder

that storm-blinded

focusing on

your pupil,

knees knocked.

The lawn,

with its print

of your passage

livers posthumously.

Head in light

and in

the gut,

stones.

Your bathroom’s limit

is reconciliation.