ME/D only Honesty

He-vein her with jealousy

a motion of care.

She steps to swallowed aggression

with hopes of melting steel hinges

-the way hot mercury falls cold-

off closed doors that with hold

a hallway of love's callow creation 

from a head-full-of-sexual.

He in bloody forearms-

has strong will that diverts tacit absolutes 

to physical self-hate for mind's relief.

He with bloody forearms-

covers her like a thick wool tapestry.

With fear of suffocating beneath 

concerns rest upon her lips

like an empty juke box.

1st- She cleans wounds with white cotton balls in alcohol rub expanding like nimbus clouds before it rains. Her dry eyes turn. A muffled signal draws blame to stained glass leaning against a light blue rotary phone. The re-cei-ver sound refracts down nuzzling into carpet that fills a room.

2nd- She looks for thin white cloth to cover elbows down wrists. The cloth unfound in bathroom medicine kits under sinks.

her words improvise:                                                                                                                      

"DO U WANT PEOPLE TO SEE. OUT OF ALL THESE DAYS, WHY U WEAR'N SHORT SLEEVES"

Look'n like tarnish brass from overly old truth, he looks away in change. To a thin faded flannel that in good light shoes a beating chest moving out front doors to fumble days. He be faceless when pass'n by counting wet cig. butts in overlooked crack sidewalks, like the flatten cotton balls wiped red left to dry in the cracks of space next to an alarm clock unplugged.