Paper and pen,
Tonic and gin.
Softly, a short breath
To carry a word,
To say what I heard.
My time running out,
Teeth bite my mouth,
And essence draws closer,
Closer, pressing,
Curse or blessing.
Panic settles,
Pots and kettles.
Eyes are wide,
Lips the same-
Will I be thrilled
Or crushed I came?
Even that, I cannot.
Many times though
I have tried,
A few of them with
Time to bide:
Time to hide?
Saw my beams
And take my blades,
Say your quotes
And make your trades.
Tooth and life and eye,
Earth and wind and sky.
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