• You sound
    like an old man with children
    like a scolding crow
    like
    train-tracks.

    Your works are harsh, bitter
    sharp and short
    as a switchblade between my ribs.
    A more suitable heart.

    You sound
    like the moment before a car wreck
    when I shut my eyes
    and pray I'll open them in a moment
    that I will walk away
    from this crumpled rose of metal.

    You sound
    like a hyena
    shrill and fearless
    cackling in morning, noon and night.
    Irreverent.

    You sound like
    silver tastes, bitter and cold
    against my tongue, and merciless
    as mercury
    poison sliding down my throat.