The blameless are stultified.
Nullified nuggets of a past life
dripping with brine and swine flu.
We have these threads
we really must undo.
Underscored opportunities.
Dribbled discourse.
You sing to me in Morse code,
the song is overloaded
with the overwhelming feeling
of a severed throat.
I turn to face the fractured sun,
but the strength of your gaze
draws me back into you.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 