i was bettering, i said, i said i was bettering, talking about light, needing light transfusion. i'm in
my skin remembering
that horror film
writing on the skin, from the inside, help me.
not to feed it my neuroses, transfuses
futility, winter worry
today i note two stigmata if i dare say on my left palm i swear, i'm getting better, i'm getting better, i mean, oh please, pleas, allow me. the most ordinary mystery is happening in me. my skin is trying.
one on my head line, one on my fate,
the palm at the end of the mind, oh duggles, oh dog, it's happening
again the first time again, again,
layers of now, layers of when,
layers of skin.
grind, ground, the heart line
looks like a grin.

something about the fungus, travail, traveling under the skin, something keeping me 

in.