Tiling

Poetry monster tries to tile terror
with words, give it roof under which to live.
Roger Penrose, indulge me just a bit,
a rose is a rose, a pen is a pen,

the rose of dawn is a thorny rising,
the pen takes flight without any feathers,
the skin is a tiling of squishy cells,
the cloak that vulnerability wears

how to house terror so it is just one
of thos…