Friday, April 6, 2018

1/30 for nic and all the others

if I sharpen my best blade
and carve their holy names,
these comrade poison carriers,
into my own tired skin,
if I watch the hot life run out
of each letter, a rain of rubies --
could it flow back to them?
angela. keith. josh. tommy. nikki. nic.
could it flow in to them?
rubies pouring in through the wounds
fly hot life back in
wake their sleeping bodies?
my comrades all come back to me
hold me while I fade, and say their sacred names
each syllable a smile to cure what kills us,
come back, come back, come back!