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DEAD MAN'S EYES
Watching the Moon
through a dead man's eyes,
I Thought again
of you.
of quiet coffee games
played
safe
in the minatour's
maze.
While monsters raged outside
thin pain-flecked walls
and a
traitor's Alice
stood watch,
smiling.
As I spat razors
and your
huge hand
on my belly
stilled starvation
with grave-yard
warmth and
I still don't
know how.
How many miles
away
from you,
I'll run,
till I find the
sun
and my feet
planted in
earthy loam
that tastes of
ashtrays,
and amber.
Remembering only
your hands in
my hair.
I wonder where
today would be
if the chasm
closed and only
I were brave
enough to stay.
