dead man walking
in the world
the sound of fists
against the hardwood
voices rasping
kicking doors down
slumping into one another
woman frail, woman shrinking
smaller and smaller
inside the case of her skin
falling down on her knees
light trapping
louder
twisting and pulling
slow
her voice a harsh whisper, swollen
the blue running down her mouth
eye smudged with purple
the tear, the traces of blood
it’s a day’s work he says
dirt under fingernails
stubble on his chin
he is pure copper with badges for eyes
sarcastic eyes
turned to a sneer.