Lying (here?there?) in a puddle of blood and of shit and of semen.
Watching his combat boots move around the room.
I want to lie here till the sunlight slivers into dark.
And then i will lie here some more. It's warm and sticky, here.
Until I disappear.
Only an ear pressed against splintering floorboard. Muffled and thud-thudding human steps of human beings in the other human cells. Faint zoom and whizz of human traffic outside the rectangle of pale purple.
His boots come and stand in front of me.
Boot tapping shoulder.
Boot digging at ribs.
Boot screwing itself into stomach
Crouching. I smell him. It's the scent of war and hearth encasing me into thick white smoke.
Hand on my shoulder shaking.
Diversion blown into wide open eyes and mouth and nostrils-it stings
talk to me
bitch you respond when i talk to ya
And then it's snowing
Flakes on my tongue which he holds out between index and thumb
The taste of war and hearth and sand and salt and ash
And then the bite of fire
Biting at my tongue saliva sizzling
(i'm) a human bomb
not longer I but someone else something else
smoked meat on the grill
and tears of gunsmoke.