Thin Margin

This mortal coil is a concertina
Bellowing blood, a murder
Weapon good as gold, foolish
As a love song, as a full heart.
One more birthday, one last
Shot at living up to anything.
Sometimes the only shield
Against imminent violence is
A closed embrace, face to face
With wild, bawling, brawling eyes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s