The Campfire Mouthpiece

Their sub-missive sent through landlocked
undertow. A burden rememberer game of
strategic triggers placed prewar memory in
fields unseen by eye.
Around the campfire mouthpiece: we slept
of better days. When once in love,
Who’s to say you’re not;
A strange pool of
Lo and op and forgetting, backward photographs
And negatives.
The Pool-loop never refreshes or calms down;
It’s soul, a vacuum of parallel, accents a user
too indiscriminately. A Wikipedic democracy
of half range. A starving child too spoiled to
eat all in front of them; Even a bone holds
influence and nourishment as any liar might
tell the truth sometimes.