Wednesday, 25 February 2015

damp fingertips

i defended your honor and
your blacks were turned against
us. swelling in your concrete
soundtrack i am forced to reconsider
the polite strokes this page veins
with; damp fingertips.
dance with my neglect
and make peace with my obsession.
remember my notes and undo
your frequency recultured
beneathes. i played literature;
i am your stapled steal calm
arms wrapped around our

silver soul.


this will be my last poem

so that i remember. because before melted steel, there was hand-made, better, buttered words. we can decide if new spaces beneath me can qui...