Poetry

in a rumpled, 
black city 
homes are sliced in half 
the equality demands 
the rights of people 
 
sometimes you love a 
tormentor 
he will be able to wed, albeit 
shyly, with the physical 
cleaning the love’s deficit 
 
how far the waiting will go 
skirting the mist 
it was there 
in you 
in me 
a rapist 
a serial killer