Can’t Get Next To You**

There are words
that rummage constantly
through my head;
sad, shadowy words
filled with a dark void;
malevolent words that stab you
when your back is turned;
or staring at you
eye to eye.
It’s ironic too,
cause even with crossing a roaring river
filled with liquid fire,
I can’t get next to you.
I can’t get next to you
and I am covered
in the singed sweat of alone-ness;
where the hues of Autumn
embrace Winter’s barren-ness,
its blank, hypnotic
pull of death.

Aztec Warrior 11.20.15