POLLUTING

i dipped my hands in a paint bucket black

and all handwriting comes out it in cries

words of water, dry on a vacant plaque

naked in the sun, burnt with holes of lies

these fingers dripping with moonlight sorrows

only know the late night doubt would dance so

heavily, thunder, whose strength i borrow

the arms to kill myself, my only foe 

a wound that joins between dark blood and ink

breaks and heals in incongruous segments

of which each gap bites at our dearly link

chewing the chains in dangerous lament

and in the quiet humming room you want

a song that sways and frays you nonchalant