Two, eight, nine, one, two, four,
oh, this mindless thing never to be confused with Justice.
Nothing symbolic, OK.
Dark is dark.
Cage is cage.
Hunter and hunter are both in the literal.
Make believes and what ifs do not exist.
A lie.
Nothing cryptic here, OK.
Rape is rape.
Prey must pray.
No tick tock in the future safe.
From quiet assertions of sheik in masking tape, OK.
Nothing here infinite.
Only time is constant to the merciful and the merciless.
There are no allegories to hide behind.
He slit his wrist mean he slit his fucking wrist, OK.
There's a cell with one window just before day.
Dawn's early demise magnifies the dull metal toilet.
The cool water cooling two canned sodas.
Each wall a slab of soft gray cinder block.
No posters featuring eroticized women
within exclusive in black tail, OK.
The wall, this the light does not reveal.
Nothing new.
Ever.
The expose, the changing saying.
Always a holding.
One window opens a gateway.
My face pressed against the window
and time rules this empire, OK.
The mind held hostage by time.
Mind and body, conjoined twins.
The other wall holds the frame.
The frame holds a metal door to contain utter disbelief.
Of the invisible, walls are gray.
But now, like summer, only darker.
Yes, there's darkness, OK.