the words weren't mine

it’s just a matter of time till the drive
to hold his views within the formulas
of common sense and its fresh exceptions
gives up hope of perpetual motion

turn around and look inevitably
in a tight corner of the neighbourhood
two mourning dwarfs surplus to the story
show up in an unmotivated light

meanwhile the one eyed woman finds herself
in the united kingdom of the blind
fighting attacks on her sight hacking paths
through the cold wood letting her black hair fall

late winter knew itself didn’t run to

this ineliminable null event