Bricks: II

A mulch that smatters
and binds our tatters
of leaning wood struts
with rivets and juts.

I’m livid inside
these walls that collide
so loud and so rich;
an echoing itch.

Propagating cracks,
crunching red stacks,
hide a love, opaque,
where so much is at stake.

Quarried blindness,
fortified regress,
ghosts knock and
there’s no way through.

One thought on “Bricks: II

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