i see a figure in the dark 
talons clasped
dripping in blood 
rust
& vermillion
staggering at tearing
exaggerating an overarched tell
a blatant question 
how are you
i see a blind mandala
prayer hands clasped
dripping in tears
of pure salinity
& surging tides
bow hunting in the dark
flowing outward unto a convex well
a patient response
i don’t care
I see a tanned ***** bone
lower limbs clasped
dripping in lubrication
of creme 
& fresh pressed juice
mindful of one moment
misandry in this
a hesitant sconce 
i need you
i see crows feet 
sickly skin 
of snow & sleet
i see a son becoming his father
love of the climb
addicted to the fall
from a widows peak
i see all of this 
& yet 
i am blinded by every her 
after all
half the battle is in the dark