She watches
her image
shatter
and fly
like tiny
glass tears
that fall
from the sky
and fall
with
their falling
accompanied by
the sound
of a satisfied sigh...

i am cold water on a ***** fist,
rinse me clean of this catastrophe
i am beaten and bruised, a raw being
stitch my wounds and bandage me whole
put me in your house made of books
and set fire to the poetry
scandalize this love affair
between me and the words
this romance only exists in my head
but it feels so real

*(a.m.c.)

hiding away un-understood
in a closet dark, under hood
myself hating
afraid to face myself
or any other,
"have I done me any good?"

let no other tale, tell this wicked tale
never truth, issues from another lip
all is couched much hidden,
the further the mouth from what
is said, there is exemplor,
the love of hate.

that then a witness of a sweet word meant
from master, is always a command to slaves,
never free never solved
ever to strive for freedom, for
liberty.