Powerless
Published in
1 min readJul 3, 2018
What do you think of when
I talk about a hurt puppy,
Limping through the mist —
It blocks the sunlight
until savage twilight.
It creeps to the figure on
the end of the wooden dock.
He’s late for the banquet
Decanted into red:
brooding, dry, and acidic.
She lets go of the emerald
balloon, only to get fucked
when it pops, impossible
to avoid. What do you think
of when I say powerless?