if you are not the flare of battle
that moves my hand to a weapon
to defend
to destroy and confiscate
then
you are the light
leaked under a doorway
a pricking halo
marking the awful, solemn notion
of rooms
i can never invade
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Thank you for the new poem.
ReplyDeletethanks for reading it, and posting a comment. I, actually, assume no one is reading this -- which is weirdly liberating in some ways. In others, though, it's nice to find out I'm wrong.
ReplyDelete