I can see how tangible the temptation might be
how bold bright and stark in the dark it might seem
no talent; nor tactic required
just a hand in a glove for the appearance of
no bullet being fired, no residue on the gun.

You felt like a shot to the gut, a slap to the face,
and gave the appearance of falling along side
a heart. Anonymous blue and human humming

Always tongue tied in your Pluto ramblings
ranging from sub zero to September sun
to bridges burning, the feel of falling,
-ascending, and slow simmer settings

My backside is caving, my morals are leaving

You push and press
-flesh, colorblind and in the moment
feeling arms and skin,

how long has it been?

You push and press
and confess, more or less

I give
I give
Till dynamite dies,
far off in the night
and a star lingers in the dark
but it’s too late to tell

If you pressed self destruction
self regret or something greater

The afternoon haze hangs red
cigarette lit sun as I finger the clock
not yet awake.