Through a lens,
nothing but a small town voyeur.
An inclement, practitioner, seeking a cure.
If raw or edgy could suffice.
I suppose there would be a way to sleep away the night.
Indeed it is the dark side of an allergy that watches for more.
Mine is not a sexual exercise.
Mine is being witness to the other side.
The soil.
The soot.
The broken down by time.
Mine is baring witness to unwritten signs.
