morning comes stumbling
from underneath the blinds--
a slow drag of consideration,
a short puff of timed indifference.
holding onto that cigarette
like it's your last chance at dying,
you are iglooed trust.
your finger runs down my spine
counting vertebrae like rosary beads
you are melted stained glass weeping slowly over chalky bones.
i watch how your pupils contract into the circumference of your cigarette tip,
the red burn like a train station departure.
you're strung together like a torture rack.
you are a mess of a messiah.