Oddly, the poem I just posted isn’t the one I’ve been working on. That one continues to improve, I think, but isn’t ready, or I’m not satisfied, whichever.
This one was more like the lightning bolt I talked about. I like it, though. Maybe in the morning I’ll reassess and stare at it, horrified. Entirely possible. The fact that I posted it comes with a host of other issues, and will probably cause me unbelievable amounts of anxiety. Even if I hate it tomorrow, maybe this is like ripping the Band-Aid off. It had to be done.