At dawn, we picked at scabs,
struggled
to unitch eczema left
by disparities of pastimes,
our opposing perspectives
manifested in contentious words.
hurled when werewolfed
under the Cherry Moon.
Now, displaced from night
we lingered, linger
muted and displeased
lacking fortitude
to withstand a daylight
harsh and prone to picking
bones from flesh
and weeding out the last remaining scab
still itching
to blissfully burst
discharging pus
for a sullen solace
sentenced by the syllables
we slung in temper
of buried bickering
until dusk sneaks up again.
Chaos, Nr. 2 Hilma af Klint
Today we are having Open Link Live at dVerse hosted by Sanaa. Join us at 3 PM EST and Live if you want to. We are using Google Meet so you can join (with or without video) from the convenience of your browser.
I have also used a title from Lilian’s poetic prompt yesterday
November 10, 2022
Björn Rudbergs writings 
It really enjoyed hearing you read this one today–it adds a dimension. I like werewolf verbed to werewolved and all the fun sounds in this. 🙂
I really like this image in your opening:
At dawn, we picked at scabs,
struggled
to unitch eczema left
by disparities of pastimes,
our opposing perspectives
manifested in contentious words.
Enjoyed hearing you read this today Björn. It’s dark but alluring, and full of fascinating imagery.
Interesting Björn. The darkness around us leaves much to picking of scabs even as dawn alights.
Hope though is our mainstay for the light of morning.
Much💛love
Darkest imagery imaginable. One step further and you’re over the edge. Salute.
“eczema left by disparities of pastimes,” is such a strong and powerful image, Bjorn! I so enjoyed hearing you read this at Open Link LIVE today! ❤❤
The itching of “buried bickering” — a perfect metaphor.
The darkness and itch must be unimaginable. Specially enjoyed this line: hurled when werewolfed
under the Cherry Moon.
I like werewolf morphed into werewolved, and wonder what a cherry moon looks like. Yesterday’s readings were fun and I enjoyed your antics!
“to blissfully burst
discharging pus
for a sullen solace
sentenced by the syllables”
The alliteration and the imagery convey a very disturbing reality.