ode to an unfinished man

Paper hisses green smoke, between
knocked knuckles painted crimson
as he presses puckered kisses
into a man’s cheek.

Level–
he’s on a pursuit for anything
to push down the tethers on his heels.
Tried to find a way up
strip the weights, shave the pain
down into something he can carry.

Mama said don’t pickup more that you can fit in your arms…

Bench pressed biceps twitch when he tries
to hold on. She pushes his arm away–twitch,
when he tries to find sleep in her warmth.

The night terror attacks the ones who think
they’re safe. Fingers caress a magnum
blanketed in down. He fears the dreams will find
his open eyes, pull his ankles back into the mud
-torn fields and he’ll rake the bodies with open fingers

-bm

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s