The Falls
Sitting at the new course writing with a swollen hand running with the recourse down a river never damned some rocks are sharp, they split the skin when they hit amid the trees lining up the bankside with a stark, cold autumn breeze bloods' flooded in the river and one can't see the red numbing from the shiver is the shadow in my head forgotten is the waterfall that lays not far ahead want to go down with me? said the shadow in my head the falls that flood in my bed like blood like the tears dried and sunken back into my head like the falls of ethanol may leave me good and dead.