under siege by skin

When the moonshine pierced

this screen-lit gaze

with eyes conceived

to cry

at night

a tear withheld

came out to play

and chase

the cheekbone

downward

a trail of salt

left tracks of hope

a last resort

for sun-dried tongues

the bitter taste

of ocean waves

swept over

years of silver

where memory stabs

the eyeball’s back

a mirror image shatters

what love can’t see

but death shall taste

the crystal rocks

of wounded dreams

a wet-brine bath

for which to soak

a healthy mind

to rot for years

another day

to stay inside

a body under siege

by skin