Clad

It once beat

so naively,

sorely inflamed,

spinning wires;

It once seated

so lowly,

drinking gravel,

filled with lies.

I’m ten blocks

north, quick to

fathom, thankful

for a

dream.

Reality flailed

a soul, fallin’

whet, alive to a

sullen cry.

I lost to never

have gone

somewhere a

storm.

It’s God’s doing,

crossed with ethics,

touching a

humble castle.

We swivet with

anticipation, drifting

through teenage

years.

I loved her as one

loves an object

—totally selfish.

We sighed when

questions hit

—so absurd. I think

back, courting a

phantom, two lines

from crying, love.

Such

fabrication,

totally moonstruck,

faced with sin.

I

hurt heart hailing a

gamble, three

shots shy of

a grand.

Something broke,

a cigarette lit,

sipping gin.