Made From Concentration

hellfire.

Take it to the blackened sea,

holy water.

Rattle the cage until I cannot breathe,

ivory blocks.

Cuff me when I commit the deed,

blend the lights, beaming,

through closed blinds.

The siren glare,

connects us,

when I draw curtains;

collecting over my body,

covering me like thorned sheets,

drawing blood to my skin

as if they were tears,

making my body

your siren,

like the ground underneath,

to move, to step,

sink in like teeth.

To shine,

to swell,

to walk on balloons,

to fall,

to crumble,

crumble beneath my

crusted, tannish boots.

Deadly silent snowcapped atmosphere,

boots like salt grinder,

to drown in wake,

to force the mouth

and to force the plate.

Thinking not to revel in loss,

Good people,

in chronic pain.

Whispering in public

with gentle Death.

Asking for mercy...