artworks

Creature Comforts

Edition of 1, 2021

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Creature Comforts

It is too late, now, for me—
a mommy with framework
fridge.

The child yelps, insists I look.
I watch myself
watch.

Somewhere lurks
the scarlet devastation of
change.

I toy with it, a coward—
by ruthless
word.

Allow life to adorn life,
stack columns of boxes to
hoard.

For how much longer?

I repeat—
for how much longer

without my say.