He lay his hands into voices
blisters raw shall bleed sap
yet entwined the bark
he cannot let go..
She,
for guilt has no conscience
her flattery of eyes knowingly addictive
hides nothing in bold brass of words..
No care in the world they have for others
cold heart tease the material
capturing loose threading
uncoiling the needle..
For he shall lose face
nothing to be gained
in tomorrow's truth
was his yesterdays blindness
for now
she knew.









18 old applause
