2

You never
sleep anymore
what with
your eyelids
glued to
the break
of another
tail-end day
closed from
swinging doors
singing bored
blade-songs
sticking in
a stone
for too
long upside
down blood
pours of
course to
the head
where all
of the
damage is
done until
an unprepared
young lag
swaggers by
with the
idea that
maybe I
can pluck
you from
whence you
came sheath
you in
rain and
then I
can be
your only
one so
sings the
blade in
replies to
his cries
in a
calm voice
love is
not enough
I’m afraid