Lsd Poem by Charles Malcolm

Writing now
about you
is the hardest thing that I have ever done.
I know that this ball of yarn
will become a pile
of tangled string
tomorrow.
I hope that
you'll forgive me as I tumble
into the tall grass.
I see you in the purple streaks
that cut against the face
and I forget about the blood
for a moment...
..
.
..
...that lasted longer than it had any right to.

Well, you were in there.
Hope that you will be still
when this wears off under the sun.