Corn Fields

Because I am bad at life,
I have been lucky to survive
all this time. Though, driving
between the fallow fields
east of Flamborough Downs,
and see that, since I’ve
come back, they have turned from black
to green, I consider the path
bruises take when blood
beneath the skin
ruptures and is trapped, and that yellow,
you know, can sometimes
be sweet.

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