Break
In the narrow hallway
Lit by a single street light
And a silver-slivered moon:
On your tip-toes,
You creep past the shadow-laden door,
Cracked and splintered and punctured
By so many drunk fists
That missed
A quivering lower lip.
The man who gave you life
Destroys like a jealous and vengeful god
Who heard you sing praises
Of coffee beans and cigarettes.
When you sacrificed them on an white winter morning-
When steam rose like incense from a mug
Of black coffee
On an altar by the microwave.
There on the worn wooden kitchen table,
From the ash of a cigarette, wisps of smoke slipped
Through themselves, swirling upward to the ceiling’s faded yellow,
The same decrepit color as your mother’s teeth
When they were still in her mouth.
Lit by a single street light
And a silver-slivered moon:
On your tip-toes,
You creep past the shadow-laden door,
Cracked and splintered and punctured
By so many drunk fists
That missed
A quivering lower lip.
The man who gave you life
Destroys like a jealous and vengeful god
Who heard you sing praises
Of coffee beans and cigarettes.
When you sacrificed them on an white winter morning-
When steam rose like incense from a mug
Of black coffee
On an altar by the microwave.
There on the worn wooden kitchen table,
From the ash of a cigarette, wisps of smoke slipped
Through themselves, swirling upward to the ceiling’s faded yellow,
The same decrepit color as your mother’s teeth
When they were still in her mouth.