A jab in the heart
by a blunt blade
of wit,
followed by an
unfashionable smile;
you come to me
barefoot across the
dew spread grass,
eyes of glass violet
glazed with the
violent past you
try so desperately to
hide.
Innocence is the burden
you lost before your
years reached double
figurers,
most men grow tired
of your perpetual
silent complaint
but I beg you for every
syllable
no matter how macabre.
You ignite me