::08:29:08::

::: Sticky hands, milky grace :::

Ghosts
press in from the darkness beyond
the light's edge, listening
their faded eyes leaning into
the forgotten warmth of
our voices
the redness of our mouths
our hot skin,
sticky hands
the panes rattle against
the aching of their white
frailty and a frightening longing
Meanwhile we
gaze out at the darkness
beyond the light
wishing to give anything
to leave
a red heart for
a tobacco tin can
sticky hands for milky grace
a hopeless starvation to be
free
Together in equal violence
the breathing dying
and the breathless dead
beat at the rattling light
the trembling dark
and the shutters they slam
in crazed desperation
they bang and they open and open
and close.

Written by: ~ Oscaranscribbler