(20 minute poetry)

Never more sure
than this,
a kiss.

Start if you mean to go on
don't bleed me and leave me.

If all's fair in love and in war
give me more.

In the tenement
they give the last sacrament
to the old city gent,
a testament to the living  
and to faith.


Knowing I'm going somewhere
be it straight
be it narrow
I fly like an arrow through
the thinness of air,
starting when I know
I'll get there.

Travelling light through
the night holds no terrors,
it's not like I'm looking
in mirrors.

And it's Friday
that's a good sign,
another week over and
the weekend to cling to
brings the week to
a satisfactory conclusion.