Char

by Robert Beveridge

My eyes have shriveled

and sink now in my chest

it purifies

cauterizes the wounds

on my wrists

I am blackened

I am charred

but now like you

I am clean

Robert Beveridge makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry just outside Cleveland, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Pulsar, Tessellate, and Scarlet Leaf Review, among others.