The lips of bittersweet
her eyes closed in the night
withdrawal from the nuke button
Jon coming through in the last quarter mile
sweeping destinies rolled up into a mile split.
broken down in fractures of a moon spilled night
some desperately await for the white flag
that never appears in the window
flooding light onto unseen figures
Blasphemy and contriteness emerge
that expose the betrayal of one's self
settling for less
the labor class
blue collar assumptions
as they cash their checks at a crack house
wine and beer not the redeemer
but a melodious song in wake of the night
close your eyes
and find her between satin sheets and nails that bind.
-jdh
9/6/19
This blog is about my struggles and redemption. There are tales of interpersonal conflict with men who I have dated. I would like to elevate the blog to healing and redemption, tools I have learned in my 12 step meeting.
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