this requiem fragile
belies our sworn harness
wbose earth
hearkens heavens
we have not
such agony rests
at the tip of my tongue
when i taste the sweet torture
of late summer sweat
the barest reflection
my being can muster
is lost
on the jagged shard floor
as I sort through those remnants
a wayward glimpse beckons
and bleakness consumes
my black heart
Max, or Not 