He wraps his hands around her throat: A candle about to die Black feathers in hand, almost smote; With daggers bloody goodbye. Then like a male she droop wings But not in courtship display.
…Hang up your gloves. Those dark olive bruises. Hanging around like Wild garlic in a necklace… …Hang up your gloves. Pick up a spade and garden. See your onions grow-
Love has its damage Like a car fender—gets bent. And, headlights blink! And disagree which is the way Ahead: Love is a road of new dawns And midnight folks—
If I could catch you tears before there fall Sweep away anguish as I did before Dive and swim, within, your heart forestall I’d happily drown each and every sorrow.
