in the brick hole,
dark and thick,
you croon a sweet melody.
your voice catches at all the right places;
words to break the heart of mankind.
but no one hears them,
tastes them,
feels them.
they busy themselves with empty talk,
lustful touches.
bodies tangle,
twine in foreign ways
not meant for standing.
heated whispers and jealous glances
exchanged between friends.
boys and rum.
your fingers callous
with each strum.
your voice grows coarse,
thick as stone
when you wail about her leaving.
the girls pray you’ll sing that way
when she walks into the night.
but they can’t catch your eye,
or their breath.
so they tousle another man’s hair
to get a drink,
to fill the space
that’s left.
words slur through lipstick smears,
their voices cannot keep up with yours.
each song brings life to those
who play with death.
