Omens.2

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7/5/16

I see them,

she sees them. 

They demand recognition 

and they thwart my attempts 

to ignore them. 

 

They are the baby's banshee howl

in the pitch of night. 

They are the katana thrust through your heart,

pure mortal agony. 

They are the sun on your face

and the wind in your hair. 

They are your lover's kiss

and your child's arms around your neck. 

They are the need for love 

and the hunger for more. 

 

They are all this and more

and impossible to ignore.  

 

They are omens 

and they keep finding me. 

Screaming my name,

forcing their way into my mouth,

like a leather wrapped stick.

 

Bite down on this. 

Chew, damn you, chew!

 

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