Sweet St.Veronica
we never asked for it, but death came early
stains and color-depth here and there
on the fabrics of time, a severed head is a banner
on a cloth banner is a head, is a God
a repetition of the mind-body duality lit ablaze
mixing sanity with time and mimick with error
time travel is a state of mind without bays
have you thought about not existing?
before birth or after death
you’re part of whoever you’ve met
high as a meth-head, low as a fundamentalist
thinking diagonally pinned to the forehead
oozing blood is four-shadowing
Saint Veronica comes and wipes your sweat
dirt and blood, grinding-pride-grounding
everyone needs forgiveness-sweet
Image: The Veil of Saint Veronica