Bonfire said, barbed thing. Com
pliant boy. His skin forged like scarred tissue
over his flesh. Toughened husk
an alcove made turbulent. A bastard
turned bashful. The boy wears
an unruly face. See the way it encourages
disaster? Auditions for the tip of the blade?
This arrogant point bellowing inwards.
This spiral bothering like a peephole.
Soon, we will no longer ponder the wound—