Find the crack
stuff in the tinder,
and light up a fire with words.
The pricks pierce and needle,
boil over, and finally, out.
Fits of phrases and cutthroat replies that
steam from the mouth and the eyes.
Choke on foul fog, the humid stink...

Tactical downshift,
step back, take a moment
breathe deep and I'm sorry.
I shouldn't have said it.
No, you were right.
You were right.
It's ok.
Just tell me.

Ah, sweet mercy and balm
for your tuckered out demons,
for the weaknesses only you see...
Now lay back and release:
Your heartache condenses
on me.

03/24/2010

Posted on 03/25/2010
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