| fly-by-nite lighthouse |
Self-baked lipstick- cake-dried flesh marred and brown, polluted, thin-skinned and bound in mystery- a witness strong, to steel you firm- raw hands that reach, desperate, convinced of some nobility- I view you lying, covers tossed- waning moon, sin-scarred voice in whispered rasp, a victory- a mark of stark lucidity - a purpose found- each exhaust contrasts your lithe fragility- each smile the last that I might see- thoughts confound, stealing grace, profound depths of docility- sliver of light from closing door dances past cross pebbled drive- catch breath at night's agility- a salty taste- flow starts slowly, glancing back, a mother's face- the theft of rude debility. |
| ALL POETRY COPYRIGHT MB TANKERSLEY 2006 |
| hug her up goodbye |
| Hard to write, harder to edit, hardest to watch. |