Posted in poetry

Killers Are Quiet

I despise your eyes
how they hum in requiem
to our end, coming
so soon while you utter
not even a word.

I watch your rhythm
focused in dark pupils
that carve confessions
into my bones;
my purity being stripped
by a man with no verse
gently spoken.

Killers are quiet, so they say,
but you do not bother
to dilute me with presumptions
even slightly indicative
of a life surfacing
beyond these sheets.

I wait, with labored inhalations
’til we die, a little death
before I forget
you will be gone
sooner than the light could find me.

Originally published in Issue 40 of The Legendary

A reading can be heard here.


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