Aphasiac
You drove headlong into red.
Windshield cracked like a spider's web
Sense gone, words remained,
a torrent of babel.
Perhaps you told me
what you meant to do
or meant to tell.
Who could tell?
Bewitched they said,
when you put a shotgun
to your head,
blew open your prison door,
and fled.
A Lingering Scent of Perfume
