Should I call you sir?
You, soldier
of bleeding skull
fractured moments on my computer
my two front steps
the street where I played hide and seek
There is a war
ripping through Oakland
bleeding cannonball tongues onto my lap
I watch you collapse, almost like cloud
slow motion soft
upon pavement riddled with my fingerprints
It's almost
as if
we were touching.
No comments:
Post a Comment