Dark Poetry: The Arithmetic of Strangers

 soft is the edge as we fumble to find its bones. heavy is its flesh as we bargain with the weight of it. 

the years flaunt their stories. in lingering resolve. shattered masks and smudged makeup all that remembers. as bruised monsters recite their poetry. to an audience of none. 

time peddles its hurricanes. a thoughtful chaos of delicate thieves. 

we consent to the end. in choking gasps. we are counselled by gravity.

eager to fall.

tomorrow arrives in heavy boots. stepping on the moments that remain.

we are fractions. our debts embedded deep within our skin.

we are earnest liars. ripe with expectation. 

counting. always counting. the teeth in the wolf's grin.