Pierce

If I were to tell you

Of the failed moisture

And the love impossible

On top of your greatcoat

Of the day he counted the stairs

While climbing towards the rooftop

To jump

I would stop doing all that

If I were to tell you all that

The not-all that cloven in your eyelid

And sand in his buttonholes...

Roped

Hunger
Under
Belly.
Pindrop
Street.
Midway
Nonsense.
Refuge
Goodwill.
Buyer
Helpless.
The midnight-blood
Oozes out unfed.

That Dark Back-Road

That dark back-road
The two of us
Impossible to go
Hand in hand
You gave me the room
And stood aside
I could not
See your face
The dearest face back
In the dark
Darkest
I passed by
Who knows?
Otherwise
We could have been there
Together
To gather
All the carrions left.