worm dig

somewhere in the dark there is a polish of liberation that soars
and swoops
and stretches
and it erases and burns into something that roars
and dances
and howls

because there is a forgetting
because the wrapping is cheap and lovely
because there are paper people
plastic songs
rubbery acquaintances
and all sorts of schemers and frog hopping slippery toad-like scum

so you have those diamonds
and the spread
sloppy kisses
a friend who says 'i know you well'
and the reason to believe

when a chaos gives birth to a cancer and a sapphire
and things go unfinished
as they do