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Tryst Feature Poet John Sweet |
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Tryst Feature Poet John Sweet |
| to starve in a house we call home |
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and in these thin shadows cast by the darker half of the sun even this cross looks holy simple lengths of wood held together by pain and there are those among us who would let a man be dragged to his death there is the song you sing quietly at midnight when my hands find your heat and what we never let fall between us is the word love is the taste of your best friend when she knocks on my door at three in the morning or that the man downstairs has been thinking too much of the gun in the back of his closet calls his ex-wife in the small hours just before dawn and cries and all it does is make her boyfriend angry all it does is wake the baby up and then at daybreak it begins to rain cold and hard and with the shadows washed away all that remains are the bones of forgotten martyrs laid bare down these broken glass alleys we will not be the first to starve in a house we call home
Featured Poetry |