imprisoned, chained up inside this
statue of a body
reaching out, tendrils probing but
foiled, slapping uselessly against
his eyes' screen door
tortured, cleansed
scrubbed, tortured again
that cold statue trying to reshape
me
in his own grey image
wringing out these last drops
of rainbow gold
his iron slick sick grip
his black touch confounding intimacy
[original post]
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the sun shines brightly cutting through the haze into tight corners of the post-atomic daze the concrete alley floor, with its broken flow...
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for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physica...
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