Jibberish

Restless once too
often,
Soften ripe for the
skinning of a
turbulent soul,

Critical mass at half
staff, portioned remains
of a life
unlived,
Tender dripping the
separated whole,

Hole to the strange
crimson manifest
trickling from a
broken scab,
Distinct from others
yet indistinct within,
Radiant? No. Just
dim.
-END-
D.C. Chapman
7/20/11