A painless and acute intuition,
that reeks of sour maroon gore,
so fine hair thin,
mocking spider web,
cracks beneath,
flexing as if alive,
yet far from so,
lush of sweet thick blade,
running along,
leaving behind frost chill behind,
faint but lingering of long,
yet only as known slack because life was too much,
the blade would fix it all,
to only leave behind more mistakes to fix,
answer now of this,
was there any to start with,
or was that all a mind trick on oneself,
because no one understands?



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