Monday, May 31, 2010

A Poem: Prisoner





I step forward to salute - 
You wear the golden laurel, the medals of valor.

I step back in awe
As you seek recompense for blood long spent and dry.

I wish to keep you as you were but
You are a warrior, Spartan.

You can't tell them anything.
They rend their hearts in ever-inventive ways.

My gaze sees the edifice of pain
I must construct a different pedestal
Cleaved open to view the fault lines

But I will know you always.
My gaze is your jailor and mine.

(see "Vanity Fair Magazine", "The Man Who Never Was", 2010)

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