Poetry

Violence unalloyed. 
I want you to hear 
the noise, light and blast. 
 
Shrouded inside, 
a chandelier breaks 
in splinters of hymns- 
all enveloping. In the positional 
vertigo, you hit the nail. 
I call it quits, undating 
a curve, an arch. 
 
Incubation. 
It was incomplete. They will parade 
the victim naked, because she was 
raped. Why did she let loose 
the testosterones? 
 
Walking ferns and 
wish bone. 
The inmate wants nothing. 
She has come to stay in dark 
till the sun unrises.