Sad Poetry: Fiction's Imperative

cold windows shift their parodies. to the contempt of curious skin. 

the stifled bark of decisions made. wear their cloaks in dying embers. 

the ache of the hunt swallows. the angry and the insignificant. 

dull knives tell their story. in soiled sheets left on empty beds. 

frail assassins discard their  smiles and wait. for the truth to place its bets. 

the math betrays us. as we fumble with the appetite of our decisions. 

softly speculating the integrity of its structure. as the world collapses.