I got the best – I’m double-edged
a soul made of numbers.
I brought back a green spirit,
a whisper of others.
She fell to her knees – heart tied
to a glance –
my stubborn alibi –
my handsome ax.
But the bait came with a chest,
and holes – the best part
laying on pavement –
a canvas of art,
one finger, two fingers,
creeping beneath
a tongue, and a breath
reaching skin deep
I kiss back the Whiskey –
holding my gasp –
just on the verge –
just over the edge
and there rises the west
with the sun upset –
the cherry is ripe –
but the seed is depressed.
The morning wakes up –
a cold soul is windy –
charcoal rains down –
get me out of this city.
