Imprint
A poem.

A place is carved inside of you — They find what they assume Is there, exists for them, Only to realize that They’re in too deep now; the space
They created for themselves In your body, your mind Is now too pervasive For them; you resisted (Before)
But your skin is soft, yielding And anyway, the space will Swallow one of you, and why Leave it gaping like a wound So you will open yourself—
But they don’t know enough to Feel secure in the darkness, Or surrender to this hazy Dream, and your body will, again, Rearrange itself in their absence.
